Over the front with Jasta Boelcke

[33LIMA 972]

A mission from my latest pilot career in Wings over Flanders Fields!

 

 

Having played little but Atlantic Fleet for four solid months since the PC version was released in late February, I recently decided to make a bit of room for some combat flight sim and tanksim action. For the latter, it's back to Steel Fury's indispensible STA mod, and with a bit of luck, I'll soon re-start work on the STA-Britpak sub-mod, having got my hand back in, playing the only mission yet available in the current beta (or maybe it's an alpha) version, featuring the 23rd Hussars in Operation Bluecoat...

 

 

Doubtless I'll find some time for Steel Armor - Blaze of War also. Its featured theaters of war are more off the beaten tank track that Steel Fury's, but its tanksim-wargame combo really works quite well and it improves on many of the features of the earlier Graviteam tank simulator, specifically in terms of AI, platoon command & control, radio net and target indications.

 

 

For an air combat fix, I fancy trying out the excellent Blinding Sun campaign in the Combined User Patch mod for Il-2 '46, flying a sleek MiG-3 to defend Mother Russia against the fascist invaders...

 

 

But before that, it's back to the First Great War in the Air, with the incomparable Wings over Flanders Fields. And what better way to start with a new pilot career in an elite fighter squadron, the illustrious Jasta Boelcke. Formed in the autumn of 1916 as the first fighter unit in the modern sense as Jasta 2, it was re-named for its first commander, pioneer air fighter Oswald Boelcke, after he died following a collision with a fellow pilot's aircraft. Despite this and other setbacks, Jasta Boelcke remained one of the premier German fighter squadrons of the First World War.

 

Naturally, you can sign up with Jasta 2/Jasta Boelcke in Wings over Flanders Fields, at pretty well any time during its wartime service. For me, the most interesting period of WW1 in the air has always been from early to autumn 1917, spanning Bloody April and the subsequent resurgence of the Royal Flying Corps, with the arrival of new fighters like the SE5 and Camel. So I opted to start my career in late March 1917, flying the superb 'V-strutter' Albatros D.III from Proville in Flanders. Even if you haven't upgraded to the latest version of WoFF, with the 'skins' pack now free and the latest version of Ankor's DX9 mod for CFS3 at last enabling us to see off the awful 'fisheye lens' external view, WoFF, its aircraft and its scenery have never, ever looked better. And that includes the white-tailed Albatri of the flight i'm now leading in Jasta Boelcke, as we set out to do battle with the English, over Flanders fields.

 

 

...to be continued!

[33LIMA 972]

A shaky start...

 

 

My first mission with Jasta 2 was an escort job, covering two elderly Aviatiks on a reconnaisance mission. As is my wont, I had selected the 'Always lead' option, as I can do without the formation flying, thanks very much, and besides, I much prefer the challenges of being the flight leader. The mission didn't go exactly to plan, though.

 

We picked up our charges all right, but I was beginning to get just a little bored, by the time we reached the front. I tend to fly WoFF missions in real time. This is partly because the sense of 'being there' in WW1's troubled skies as you traverse WoFF's tremendous landscapes and skyscapes I find head and shoulders above any other sim I've flown. But also because the WoFF air activity generation system means CFS3's rather messy 'hyper-fast forward' version of the CFS 'warp to next event' function doesn't work right for WoFF. We do have 'normal' time compression in WoFF but though this is reminiscent of my 'good old days' in that earlier classic Red Baron 3D, I somewhat dislike this feature in any sim. I'm hard to please, I know, but I do rather prefer First Eagles's reliable and effecient 'next encounter' key, as a counter to boredom, should I feel the need to avail of it.

 

To digress a little, until recently, I had sometimes found that WoFF flights could end without seeing an enemy, even on active parts of the front, at medium settings and with no 'AWACS' aids; which, though realistic, can be a bit disappointing. Of late, I think that switching on the 'dot mode' label setting and fixing this at 6 Km range has considerably improved matters, enabling me to spot enemies I might have missed, and without stretching realism or resorting to fancy visual aids. And on this mission, the opportunity to relieve the possibility of boredom on a long flight was soon to be offered - in a different, more exciting form, without the need for warp or time compression.

 

Visibility was not great, with lots of broken cloud and intermittent rain squalls (I have the 'historical weather' option turned on, so I get a lot of this, WW1 being a wet period, generally). Still, with the 'fisheye lens' external view gone at last and cloud, terrrain & ground object shadows now present, there was still a lot to see and admire.

 

 

As usual, I had the 'tactical display' or TAC mostly turned off, using it just for occasional nav checks to avioid the 'AWACS/radar' effect. And at any event, I keep the TAC's range set to only 2,000 metres, so even when on, it acts as no more than a representation of what myself and my flight-mates should usually be able to see with our naked eyes. This compensates for your flight-mates not otherwise being able to tell that they have spotted something (in the pre-radio WW1 days, typically by diving ahead and waggling their wings to attract your attention, then pointing).

 

Being over 2,000 meters up at the point we reached the muddy lines of trenches and shelled ground at the front, we were too high for the TAC to pick up low-flying targets. It was fortunate therefore that, happening to look down, I spotted two tan coloured aircraft, one well behind the other, really low down and crossing our track from right to left. Had I not been flying in the external view, I might have missed them, but I generally 'go virtual cockpit' only for combat as (not being a head tracker user) I find this not only looks better, but compensates for the limitations of 'monitor vision'.

 

Decisions, decisions! The right thing to do was stick with the Aviatiks, no question about that. Those planes down there looked like BE2s, harmless recce types, and even if they were enemy scouts, they were low and headed away and thus no particular threat. But our staffel's second flight was in the vicinity to care for the reconnaisance machines; and heck, this was my first serious virtual combat flight for months! If I stayed with the Aviatiks, I feared this might turn into another one of those sightseeing missions. So down I went, at the head of my flight, turning on the TAC briefly to give the 'general attack' order to the others.

 

 

Unfortunately, I got no screenshots of the very short combat which followed. In my haste to get at the enemy, I dived straight at the hindmost aircraft - they were indeed BE2c's - instead of pulling up under his blind spot, below and behind. I got hits on my target but from that angle, even a front-seated BE2 observer can get you in his sights, and this one got me. First major sign of this was that my engine was losing power, and the range to my target gradually opened out. I got some more hits and last saw him going down in a wide right-hand turn.

 

Confident that my flight would finsh the fight just fine without me, I turned east so as to avoid a forced landing on the enemy side of the Lines. That attended to, I checked my map and looked for the nearest friendly airfield. No point in risking damaging my kite landing on some field trying to make it home; better land at the nearest aerodrome while my motor was still turning, I thought to myself. So that's what I did. At this point, I remembered to take another picture, so here it is.

 

 

I really vastly prefer the less wide-angle effect that comes with the latest DX9 mod, which is built into WoFF2 and later. Yes, you have a narrower field of view, depending on the setting (mine is 60 degrees I believe) but the external view of aircraft looks vastly more natural. Here's a pic of an Albatros D.II with the previous, 'fisheye lens' effect, so you can see what I am rabbiting on about.

 

 

I didn't need to fill in a claim form for the BE2 I had attacked (in case he actually went down!) as I had the 'Manual claims' option turned off. As it happened, the automatically-submitted claim was confirmed, a few days latter. So the damage to my machine was not in vain.

 

Little did I know it, but if that was a somewhat shaky start, the next mission was to be a whole lot shakier still!

 

...to be continued!

[33LIMA 972]

Triple trouble...times two...

 

 

The next mission was a patrol up to the Lines. This time, there were four of us, flying as two pairs. In the pic above, you can see how the now-free skin pack adds realistic personal markings to what might otherwise be planes with only the 'white tail' jasta marking.

 

We took off more or less together but I let the other pair draw out in front. The briefing said they would be flying top cover, which sounded re-assuring. The weather was less so; there were some gaps in the cloud but the rain was lashing down as we left Proville behind us.

 

 

Happily, we quickly came out from under the squall. In the picture below, you can see that WoFF's railway lines (which feature moving trains) still have some angular bends but overall, the landscape is first class and the new tree, cloud and terrain shadows improve the view considerably.

 

 

 

My own wingman was soon in formation to my left rear, and I opened up the throttle to begin the long climb up to the front. The WoFF mission waypoints, perhaps realistically but somewhat frustratingly, often send you off in the 'wrong' direction to gain altitude over a waypoint, before heading towards your patrol area. I could have cut that out and gone direct, but with just the two of us, I didn't want to get separated from the other pair, who were patiently climbing out along the planned track, up ahead.

 

 

 

As we climbed up, the combination of broken cloud all around us and murky conditions below hampered visibility in all directions. You really get the feeling in WoFF of the importance of the weather, and that you are just a rather small, puny human being in a rather fragile little flying machine, pitted as much against the vagaries of Mother Nature as the wiles of a foe-man who might pounce at any moment.

 

 

To my right, the banks of clouds looked pretty solid. If there was anything out there, we wouldn't see it until it was uncomfortably close...which worked both ways, of course, but it was still a somewhat scary proposition.

 

 

Up ahead, at least, I still had the consolation of the other pair of Albatrosses. I was quite pleased not to have lost them, in these conditions.

 

 

By now, I was practically at their level. They were supposed to be top cover, so I decided to put my nose down a bit, and use the increased speed to slip down below and slightly ahead of them, where they would be nicely-placed to cover our tails from above.

 

 

At about this time, we reached our patrol waypoint, and the other two turned around. To re-orient myself, I turned on the Tactical Display...and there they were. Behind me, in a red box indicating an occupied zone on the ground, were, as expected, the two blue aircraft icons representing the other flight. But it wasn't they who now occupied my attention. Ahead, at around one o'clock, was a group of similar but dark grey icons, whirling around. Unidentified aircraft, lower down. What could they be?

 

 

It didn't take me long to find out. What I should have done was keep my height and stay with the other flight. Even if they hadn't spotted the enemies, if that's what they were. Safety in mumbers. But I thought, well, I'll take a look, first, see what they are and what they're up to. I rolled right and put the nose down. And this is what I saw.

 

 

There were four or five little midge-like aircraft, with narrow-chord, plank-like wings, and they were spiralling up, clearly determined to get us. I identified them at once, and knew I was in trouble. They were Sopwith Triplanes, armed only with a single Vickers Gun but fast-climbing and agile machines, the one RFC aircraft that was more than a match for the Albatros, at this point in the war. And there were at least four of them.

 

In no time at all they were up at our level, my attempt to roll in behind one from above having been thwarted as they turned in underneath me, before continuing their upward spiral. In another few seconds, two of them were turning in behind me. Their speed and agility was frightening, and I knew at once that this had become a matter of simple survival. And that it would be chacun pour soi, or every man for himself as they say. Get the heck out of it and hope my flight-mate does the same. No time to work out whether the other flight might help, if they had even seen this.

 

 

I pushed the nose down and dived away, hoping I was headed towards friendly territory. I couldn't out-climb them, I couldn't out-run them, but maybe I could out-dive them. Not a great plan to be sure, but it was all I could manage, in the circumstances.

 

 

I gained a bit of ground, it seemed, and was able to confirm that I was headed east, into German-held territory. Down below, the sight of trenches and a motor transport column trundling along a road raised the hope that ground gunners might come to my rescue.

 

 

It didn't work. Bullets whacked into my aeroplane, and I jinked to avoid the fire, pulling up at the same time as the ground came up towards me. One of the Sopwiths darn nearly collided with me as he pulled up from a firing pass.

 

 

My motor now packed in, but by that time, I was practically on the deck anyway. Without further ado, I plonked my kite onto the ground, and was fortunate to do no more damage than burying a wingtip in the mud.

 

 

Fortunately, the Englishmen displayed impeccable manners, in now leaving me alone. Possibly, the risk of ground fire encouraged them not to hang around. Anyway, my second campaign mission had ended in defeat, though not in personal disaster. Unfortunately, my wingman was posted missing. Not a good result. My overconfidence in losing altitude to identify the enemy had been a major factor; I should have kept my height - and kept close to the other flight. Instead, we had paid the price for tangling with superior numbers of superior aircraft.

 

Things can only get better, I told myself. They certainly couldn't get much worse, short of a fatal outcome...which seemed a distinct possibility.

 

...to be continued!

[33LIMA 972]

Third time lucky?

 

 

So far, I have bent two aircraft, lost one wingman, and shot down a two-seater - an enemy one, fortunately. At this rate, I can see myself being posted out of my elite Jasta, before too much longer! Or maybe I should accept that I'm out of practice, and need a spell flying behind someone else as flight leader. Of one thing I feel sure - I need to make a better show in this, my third mission.

 

At least this time, the Jasta is out in force - nine of us, five in my flight and rest in the other one. We make a fine show, as we begin rolling across the grass at Proville. You may recognise the machine with the red heart on the fuselage side - yes, it's no less than the young Verner Voss, an exceptional pilot surely bound for great things. How can we lose, this time?

 

 

The mission is another patrol, up to then down the Lines. And the weather is a bit better, this time, fewer showers and a certain amount of blue sky visible. A good omen, surely.

 

 

As I wait for the others to form up around me, I have time to admire the view. The new ground shading effects and cloud shadows are thankfully subtle but really lift the landscape, giving it new depth and interest.

 

 

Soon, my flight-mates are in a neat V-formation, two either side of me...

 

 

...and I open her up and begin to climb, with the other flight doing the same, in front and lower down.

 

 

As usual, there's a certain amount of climbing around waypoints to do, but after following the other flight throught several climbing turns, I decide to strike out for the front with my own flight. Five of us should be able to look after ourselves, I feel sure. Although this time, if I can, I will avoid combat with those accursed triplanes.

 

Before too long, we are over No-Man's Land, at a respectable height for the conditions.

 

 

At this point, we run into a shower, but I pay the rain no attention, because I see something much more interesting. Ahead and to the right, slightly lower, I see a dark burst of German AA fire, then another. I wheel towards the flak, keeping my height. Out ahead of the bursts, I spot two aircraft moving away. I can see that they have dark, brownish wings with a spidery fuselage behind. Pushers, I realise, possibly Vickers 2-seaters [as the Germans called the RAF FE2] - if they were DH2 fighters, I think they would be reacting more aggressively.

 

 

I want us to get them before they escape into the clouds or over their own territory, so after a quick look around to check for other enemies and finding none, I dive after the pushers. I select my own target and give the order for a flight attack. As I close in, I can see that yes, they are definitely two seaters. I line up for an attack on the rearmost aircraft.

 

 

But my haste is now my undoing. FE2s have a poor field of fire directly to the rear. The obsever sits at the front of a nacelle with the engine blocking the view behind, but as well as firing forward, he can stand up and fire up and backwards, using a Lewis Gun on a sort of pole mount, firing back over the top wing. In my dive, I have presented him with an excellent target. I get some hits, but am hit in return and almost immediately, I realise that my engine is losing power. I carry on my dive and try to come in behind and below the enemy, but already, my airspeed is falling off and the range, instead of closing, is opening out.

 

 

About all I can do now is rattle off some long range bursts, as the big pusher draws slowly away, chased by one of my comrades. From the fragements which come off, I can see that I am getting some hits.

 

 

Just as my motor dies and the prop whirls to a stop, the enemy aircraft noses down to the right, still pursued my my flight mate. If he grabs the victory, so be it, for as our staffel's late mentor said, it is the staffel that must fight and win the battle, not the individuals.

 

 

I turn and dive for the friendly side of the Lines, tightening my turn as I realise I am going to pass close to the diving 'Fee' and fearful he will get a last crack at me. But nothing nasty comes my way, and the enemy packing-case slips harmlessly beneath my tail.

 

 

I get another fright as he comes around behind me again. But he is evidently more concerned with shaking off the Albatros which is snapping at his heels, and again, I escape without further damage.

 

 

Enough is enough! I bank around again and dive away for safety. This is no place for an overweight glider!

 

 

Fortunately, this time it looks like I'll have enough height, to touch down outside the shelled area; though only just. Better still, if I can make it to a friendly airfield. There is one to my right, just beyond a German observation balloon, but the landing area seems to have been churned up by shellfire, so I decide an open field would be preferable.

 

 

My luck holds. There is another airfield nearby, and this one is in clear ground. I gently adjust my course for it, careful to conserve what height I have left.

 

 

For a few long seconds, I think I'm not going to make the airfield. But my luck continues to hold, and I manage to sail sweetly across some fences, which would certainly have made a bit of a mess of my machine, had I landed short and run into them

 

 

But all is well, and I drift onto the field for a decent dead stick landing. I'm going to be giving the fitters back at Proville a bit more work, but this time we have something better to show for it, I feel sure - some kills for the flight, even if one of them isn't mine.

 

 

And it wasn't - my kill, that is. The two 'Fees' were credited to flight-mates. But the flight won its battle, that was the main thing. Two more enemy planes and their crews won't be flying any more missions against us. Maybe I might get to stay in Jasta Boelcke as a flight leader, after all...

 

[33LIMA 972]

Postscript - the 'make or break' mission...

 

 

Never mind making ‘ace’, as in real life, sheer survival can be enough of a challenge in the dangerous virtual skies of Wings over Flanders Fields.  By that measure at least, I hadn’t done too badly, from my first three missions. I was still in the Land of the Living and despite having each time brought back a plane that was slightly the worse for wear, I had a confirmed kill to balance the account. However, I was a flight leader in a staffel with a reputation to live up to, and knew that I must improve upon this rather indifferent showing. And soon.

 

As it happened, the very next mission was to provide me with a chance to do just that.

 

My number two was still missing but I find muyself placed at the head of a full flight of six Albatros D.IIIs, including a couple of actual or budding aces – notably Hermann Frommherz, famous for his pale blue machine, known as 'der Blau Maus'. Thanks to the now-free WoFF skinpack, you can see his machine clearly, in the line-out below.

 

 

Also lined up with us on the grass at Proville are three machines in a separate flight which the briefing has told me will fly top cover for us. As doubtless in real life, such co-operation doesn’t always seem to work out too well in WoFF and today, the cloudy weather looks like it will make this less likely. Still, with six sleek scouts at my disposal, each armed with two MGs at a time the enemy fighters usually carry only one, I’m feeling confident that we can look after ourselves, as need be.

 

Soon, I am on the way. Below and behind us, a frieght train chugs along, as the inevitable rain showers impersonally lash aircraft, train and landscape, all alike.

 

 

A check of the in-game map - I use Nibbio's version, which improves the correspondence between map and 3-D world - reminds me that our assigned route is a short leg to the north-north-east, then nearly due east to the front, then south-west down the line of trenches, and fianlly back north-east to base. Assigned patrol altitude is just under 3,000 metres. Some folks navigate in WoFF using printed maps designed to replicate closely the 3-D world, but I just use the on-screen map, complete with aircraft icon to show your current position as well as the patrol route. I can do without the added realism of getting lost! So I rationalise this #magic map' as the result of my pilot having thoroughly familiarised himself with the unit's area of operations beforehand…and having an exceptional sense of direction. Before long, my flight has caught up.

 

 

Because we were supposed to have another flight in support, I take care not to cut corners, but to fly the route as indicated in the Tactical Display, which I turn on at intervals to navigate. As usual this means lingering at an early waypoint to gain height. Then it’s off to the front. I prefer flying in real time to using time compression or the air start option, which can be a pain if, after all that, you don’t encounter any opposition. On previous careers – especially flying for the British – I have flown many such uneventful missions, with nary a Hun to be seen, even in what should behistorically busy sectors. This was not to be one of those missions.

 

The second flight's three Albatrosses are slower to gain height. About half-way along the leg to the front, I see them turn right and disappear off into the clouds. I have no idea why. Perhaps they have seen something I cant. No matter. On we go.

 

 

At our assigned height, we reach the front, turn left, and start tracking down the Lines. Grey-white clouds are still stacked up on every side, at, above and below our level. The muddy brown shelled ground of No-Man’s Land and the trenches can be seen only intermittently, through gaps in the cloud and murk below. On we rumble, in a diamond formation, two machines on either side, one bringing up the rear.

 

The first sign that this is not going to be an uneventful sortie comes in the form of several dark bursts of German flak, at about two o’clock and just below our level. I start a turn towards these fading dark smudges; hesitantly, because I can see no sign of the enemy aircraft which must be their target.

 

 

There are in fact two reasons I don’t see the enemy. The first is that – understandably in the prevailing weather conditions – the AA fire isn’t terribly accurate and is lagging well behind the enemy, and firing somewhat low. The second reason is that the enemy is presenting the smallest possible visual target – they are head-on, coming straight at us.

 

 

Crikey! Just in time to turn into them but not soon enough to get off a shot, I see two aircraft, which I immediately identify as SPADs – fast French-built  single-seaters with two closely-spaced wings without dihedral and with two sets of interplane struts each side, readily recognised from the front. They whizz past and I turn after them, at the same time turning on and off the TAC, in the meantime tagging a target and ordering the attack. Looking behind me, I can see the SPADS are turning after us, evidently unimpressed by our superior numbers. I see too that they are a light tan, spashes of colour against the harsh, monochrome, steely greys of the clouds. They bear the cockades of France, with the red ring outermost.

 

 

The two SPADs are pretty hot stuff but at first, they make the mistake of staying to turn with the somewhat more nimble Albatrosses. Even so, I have to use the vertical to cut inside one of the speedy enemy fighters, who seems to be well able to keep up a good rate of turn, even if the radius is a bit greater than mine. As if realising this mistake, my target wings over into a dive before I can fire my first burst. He pulls rapidly away, then begins to zoom. At this point, though the range is rather too long, I cut loose with a short burst with about 30 degrees deflection and am quite surprised to see fragments fly from one or more hits. No doubt equally surprised, the Frenchman rolls over and dives away again. Another Albatross cut in close behind him and, rather than lose altitude to continue the chase, I look around for the other SPAD.

 

 

As I come around, I get a bit of a shock as a group of aircraft in perfect V formation flashes past overhead. I quickly realise they are Albatrosses like my own, possibly our other flight (after the mission I realise they are from a different staffel; if I’d had time to turn on labels, I’d have been able positively to identify them ). WoFF’s AI won’t attack everything on sight and in this case, with six of us against two, the other flight was quite right, not to hang about or intervene. They would only have got in the way, so carrying on with their own mission was the right thing to do.

 

 

Looking down again, I see a SPAD that looks to be slipping into and out of control, recovering momentarily only to lose it again. He levels his wings one last time, only for the nose to drop. He smashes into the ground in a lighter-brown spray of mud and dirt, next to a road.

 

 

I turn away and begin a shallow, wide spiral climb to the right at full power, to recover altitude, make myself a less easy target and give myself a chance to re-assess the situation.

 

 

There are, at first, no other aircraft in sight. But after several seconds, two machine appear behind, one a little lower, the other a little higher, both trailing me. I can soon make out that they are not SPADs. I identify them as Albatrosses and as I suspect, they are members of my flight, rejoining after the combat. I throttle back and let them close up; one of them is Frommherz in his distinctive bird. Realistically, the AI in WoFF doesn’t always manage to re-form after a fight so I have reason to hope the others might be ok, too.

 

I haven’t fired off too much ammo so decide to resume the patrol. Up we climb, heading back to our last waypoint over the Lines.

 

 

So far, the mission isn't going as well as I'd hoped. I'll need to do better than this if I'm to keep my place in Jasta Boelcke, I feel sure.

 

...to be continued!

[33LIMA 972]

From a view, to a kill...

 

 

Looking around as we approach the Lines, I see some more flak bursts. Once again they are a dark shade, indicating German gunners engaging an enemy target. This time, I can see the latter, just a small speck a little left of the flak.

 

 

What I hadn't noticed was that for some reason, my two flight-mates had left formation - you can see what I presume is one of them, visible below my machine's tailskid in the picture above. What prompted this, I'm not sure. If you fancy a more informative, AWACS-style picture of what's going on around you, WoFF enables you to cycle through labels which not only identify the aircraft, its unit, and if an ace the pilot, but also what the plane is actually doing at any point. I don't know about you, but I find that cycling through labels during virtual combat is a good way to get virtually killed, while pausing the action to avoid that eventuality can still mean a potentially-fatal interruption of your control inputs; so I tend to forgo even a quick glance at such things, informative though they are.

 

The enemy aircaft - a SPAD, again - attacks, but breaks off, down and away, after I manage to get in a burst during the merge.

 

 

The SPAD levels out below and is now attacked by one of my Albatrosses. Rather than lose height needlessly, I watch from above, ready to intervene only if necessary. It becomes so when the Frenchman first evades his attacker then gets in behind him. Having positioned myself to anticipate this very possibility, I gratefully accept the opportunity thus presented and shoot the SPAD off my comrade’s tail. I'm firing at long range, but it's enough. The Albatros turns one way, and the SPAD the other, with me after him. 

 

 

Now, it's my turn again. I cut inside the SPAD's turn and a few more hits cause him to dive out. I roll in after him, firing as I come, short bursts so as not to get a stoppage. Then I zoom climb. An Albatros 'booming and zooming' a SPAD: now, there's a turn-up for the books, not that the former term was current in the First World War.

 

 

The Frenchman has been hit hard enough, it seems; he tries to escape west at full speed, but makes the mistake of climbing rather than continuing to dive. I have conserved my height and slip in behind him.

 

 

He pulls up and right as my first burst whacks into him. The move is somehow half-hearted, as if lacking in conviction. I follow him easily, continuing to fire short bursts.

 

 

Cutting the corner of his lazy turn, I hold my fire. I forget to look behind, as I know I should, even though I have two comrades nearby.

 

 

But I am pre-occupied with my victim in front, whom I now know is completely at my mercy. The next burst is enough. There is a flash of flame, the SPAD's nose and left wing drop suddenly, and it is all over.

 

 

 A long dark trail of smoke marks his fall to earth. No doubt about that one!
 

 

Now, I nearly pay the price for my target fixation. I'm startled by the sound of MG fire from astern, and the even more unwelcome noise of rounds hitting my machine. Looking around as I break down and left, I am horrified to see a second enemy scout - a Nieuport - close behind me and shooting. In that instant, my composure completely evaporates and I shove my nose right down and try to roll around hard, more to get out of the line of fire than to get behind the new foe.

 

 

 

I now find myself in a turning fight with two enemies snapping at my heels. One is the silver French Nieuport. The other is quite a different bird, a brown Sopwith Pup with a black nose, probably from an RNAS squadron.  Of my two flight-mates, I can see no sign, and don’t have the time to look.

 

 

Amidst all the wheeling and diving, and with the ground now rather too close for comfort, I somehow manage to get off a burst at the Nieuport, causing him to bank away. I immediately switch my attention to the Pup, leaving the Nieuport to the others, who must be somewhere close at hand. For all I know, they may be engaged with other enemies I have not seen in the confusion.

There follows a low-level turning fight with the Sopwith. More than once I nearly fly into the ground, the last time causing the Englishman to break up and away after a firing pass. Seizing what might be my last chance, I turn after him, resisting the urge to bank the other way and run for it, to the east. My more powerful motor pulls me in behind him and I get off a good burst.

 

 

Down he goes! Have I finished him? I'm not certain and I have no time to look, for I am immediately attacked from head-on by another Pup which I had not seen before.

 

 

I have just enough height left to resume the low yo-yo tactics that I believe are my only hope in this knife fight with the more agile Sopwith, unless I put some distance between us. Again I narrowly avoid running into the ground. I will soon be out of energy and out of options. But somehow I manage to get into a firing position, if only because he is loath to follow me into the mud. I make the most of it, as I know I must!

 

 

I think I must have landed a hit or two, because suddenly, his aggression seems to be spent. He levels off and flies homeward, to the west. My faster bird closes the range, and this time a look around confirms my own tail is now clear. I fire from close range, a no-deflection shot from dead astern, and down he goes!

 

 

The Englishman pulls up just above the ground, levels off, and makes a heavy forced landing, which ends in what looks like a bad crash. He's just behind our trenches, so like the SPAD which fell nearby, this should be another confirmed kill!

I begin another spiral climb but this time there is no sign of any comrades. Nor any more enemies, thank goodness. Time to go home, I tell myself, suddenly feeling the tension draining away, and the energy with it. The skies remain clear of aircraft as far as my eye can see, so after circling briefly to see if any comrades show up and finding none do, I take the chance to get out of it while I still can.

 

 

I steer back east to Proville, but decide instead to give myself a break by stopping off at the same field at which I’d force-landed at the end of the previous mission. It's a short hop and I'm soon turning onto my final approach.

 

 

As I come in, I notice, in addition to the usual machines parked in front of the canvas hangars, another two aircraft sitting near the far side of the landing ground. I take care to land so as not to run into them, which is just as well because they turn out to be two of my boys, including Lt Frommherz!

 

 

 

The detailed debriefing reveals that I am able to make no less than three claims, which must be the second SPAD and the two Pups. There are no other claims from my flight, only one of whom had fired his guns. Two aircraft have been damaged and one was lost, with its pilot lightly wounded and another being reported as 'shook up'. I know the feeling!

 

 

Anyhow, it looks like after a shaky start, I have now staked my claim to be a flight leader in Jasta Boelcke, in suitably dramatic fashion! However, it could just as easily have been my last flight and I entertain no illusions about my prospects. But whatever the future may bring, I will meet it having earned the white tail that marks my machine as belonging to the Luftstreitkrafe’s most famous fighter squadron!

 

 

Having always hated the CFS3 'fisheye' lens's wide-angle external view, I find it hard to over-emphasise how much improved the more natural viewpoint that's now available adds to my appreciation of WoFF's planes, landscapes and skyscapes. If a more absorbing and immersive combat simulation experience exists anywhere, I for one have yet to find it.

 

 

Continued development of Wings over Flanders Fields having kept it in the forefront, I think another, up-to-date accolade is called for, beyond those from the original CombatAce review: