Jump to content
epower

DiD IV Campaign - Flight reports & Player instructions

Recommended Posts

August 27

Armand's Diary

New guy arrived:Cpl Roland Wissemann.

Offensive patrol

Shot01-20-22-22-52-31.thumb.jpg.ee6a9f1f05af0a7ffde620c0db634513.jpgVery density flak!

Further back EA which Jean and i shooted down.At least claim but Le Sort want it too!

28 August

New arrival:Sgt. Ignace Dauvegne

Sacre Bleu! All three claim rejected!Propably Schneider and Le Sort get credit neither.

 

Newspapers:Slt Adolphe Pegaud from MS49 granted title "Chevalier De La Legion D'Honneur".

Handsome title,have to admit.

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

So much to catch up and comment! But first, here's the latest from Auguste...

The War Diary of Auguste Besson, Escadrille MS. 23, part 3.

Our offensive in the Artois sector came to an end in late July. Sadly, despite a massive effort by all of our combined forces on both land and in the air, the outcome was a failure. There were some local successes, but the boche lines held and could not be broken. By then, I was getting quite familiar with everything and was actually enjoying my duties as a military pilot, despite all the dangers inherent to the job. I had managed to find my place in the escadrille and was developing a certain daily routine, which of course depended greatly on the orders we were given.

In the last week of July, the Chief of Aviation of the Second Army issued a relocation order to our escadrille. We were ordered to move to a field located at a place called Matougues, near the city of Châlons-sur-Marne in the Marne Department. The Second Army front was being reorganized following the failed offensive, and our allies the British were extending their lines to the south with additional forces.

The relocation of a whole escadrille from one base to another requires a major logistical effort and also great feats of improvisation. So, in the first week of August, our ground personnel began to gather up everything for transportation. They needed a lot of cars and lorries for the job, and what equipment the escadrille lacked was rapidly provided for by the army parks. The distance from Lahoussey in Flanders to Matougues in Marne is about 200 km as the Parasol flies, so it was no small task to get everything sorted out. Obviously the distance is even greater when travelling on the roads behind the front. Perhaps we will eventually have flying cars or big transport planes to fix that problem!

We kept flying missions for as long as possible, in order to not waste any of our aviation resources still present in the Artois sector. But eventually, all of our machines were dismantled for transportation too. Fortunately the Parasol is a rather small and lightweight machine, and can be easily carried by a lorry.

The journey to our new field was somewhat arduous. The weather turned bad in August and constant rains made the roads muddy and slippery. There were also mechanical failures in the lorries, which slowed our progress down to a crawl. I felt nothing but admiration for the men, NCO’s and officers serving as our support troops and doing their often difficult duty without complaints. Theirs is a task that does not receive any attention by the press, nor is it written about by authors interested only in stories of heroic combat. And yet, without the mechanics, drivers, and engineers, all of our efforts at fighting a modern war would soon grind to a halt!

On August 7, we were finally at our new home, Matougues. It is a small community located on the southern bank of the river Marne along the road from Épernay to Châlons. Roughly to the northwest is the major city of Reims, defiantly facing the invading boche armies. The frontlines ran about 20 km from our field. We were now in the Fourth Army sector, though still formally attached to the Second Army of General Petain.

Though Matougues is just a small village, the region itself is densely populated and there is no lack of proper housing for comfort-loving aviators! So we quickly set ourselves up in brick houses and the ground crew put up tent hangars for the machines. The field itself was smaller than Lahoussey but also quite easy to locate, being so close to the Marne.Terrain to the south of Reims is heavily wooded, especially compared to the open fields of Flanders. Flying in such a region presents additional challenges to the pilot, as making an emergency landing in a forest usually ends in a disaster!

As soon as everything was ready on the ground, we began flying orientation missions to familiarize ourselves with our new sector.

2y4NgNQ.jpg

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Jean-Fidele Hierrot, Report #4: August 1915

On Saturday, 28 August, Sous Lieutenant Jean-Fidele Hierrot sent out two letters.

This was the first letter, sent to his mother, Adélaïde:

Quote

samedi, le 28 août, 1915

Maman,

Salut! How are you doing? I must apologize for taking so long to write you back - le capitaine isn't working us too hard, but there's still so much to learn. I'm also getting to know everybody in the squadron; everybody's been so gracious in showing me how the squadron operates.

It's funny - I was so scared at first about what would happen, but it's only gotten easier since arriving at Rosnay. We're just doing patrols, each of us doing maybe 3 or 4 a week, and so far all is calm in our small slice of the front. I thank Oncle Alphonse for helping me get into le Aéronautique Militaire, for I can only imagine what life must be like for the soldiers in the trenches below who don't have the protection of being a mile up in the air. However, we must all do our part, and I hope the information my observer and I are gathering will be of some use on the frontlines.

I don't know when I will be able to see the family, but I will let you know. Just know that I am safe, and I hope to come home soon.

With love,
Jean-Fidele

This was the second letter, sent to his godfather, Alphonse Gellée:

Quote

 

samedi, le 28 août, 1915

A -

It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write to you.

I know you wanted to keep me safe as an officer in le Aéronautique Militaire, and I remain so grateful for that. I believe I owe you my life. But I am quickly learning that there is no guarantee of life or limb up in the air. We live a life of constant danger - if this can be called living.

We've been losing men fairly regularly. What the Germans are doing to us, I only wish we could have done to the flies back home in Algiers. For the most part, my flight has focused on patrolling behind our own lines to scare off any Aviatik two-seaters, but now we're starting to do more reconnaissance over enemy territory and it's going badly. Most recently, one of our men, Lieutenant Pelletier d'Osy, was brought down by anti-aircraft ground fire. He's now a prisoner of war, and I'm hearing that his observer, Sergent Homolle, was killed in the crash. Myself, I made it out without a scratch, but we did have to maneuver away from our share of ground fire, and my observer Aldric was shaken up when we got back to Rosnay.

One thing they never tell you in training is that you're not just at war against les boches -  at times, your own machine turns against you and now you're at war against your own airplane as well. On the way back from patrol, I noticed smokestacks in the distance, only to find out that I was seeing what remained of Sergent de Bernis' Morane-Saulnier; the pilot himself survived, but his observer, Gembicki, perished. Another death. No gunfire, no combat, nothing of the sort - the word is that the engine just burned out, and de Bernis did the best he could to get safely on the ground, but wasn't able to get control of the aircraft in time. I painted a little card of what I was able to see from the airfield. Another day, another way for men scarcely older than me to die.

You may have read about Capitaine Jacques Caillebotte in the papers, for he has gained some renown - he's the squadron ace, having downed nine enemy aircraft by now. Surely you're wondering what it's like to live, work, and fly with such a man? Though perhaps you know, having served alongside National Heroes in your time. I feel nothing but empathy now for the apostle Thomas, for when doubted the resurrected Christ, he must have encountered more than his share of Caillebottes: men who've been appointed as God's gift to the rest of us peasants, men who may only occasionally grant you the courtesy of not reminding you of their messianic heroism. Should he ever reach 20 victories, the workers in the Morane-Saulnier factory are going to have to start using a more powerful engine to be able to get his growing head off the ground.

Ah, well. I'm hearing that we may start picking up some single-seaters shortly, and that may be my opportunity to remind le Capitaine that even Jesus of Nazareth still required his twelve disciples.

- J

large.image_2022-01-23_113854.png.6256e09322144f495c83d95f7733b8d9.png

 

That being said, after Jean-Fidele sent both letters, MS 12 would soon be under new management.

Edited by Albrecht_Kaseltzer
  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
On 23/01/2022 at 8:30 PM, Albrecht_Kaseltzer said:

I feel nothing but empathy now for the apostle Thomas, for when doubted the resurrected Christ, he must have encountered more than his share of Caillebottes: men who've been appointed as God's gift to the rest of us peasants, men who may only occasionally grant you the courtesy of not reminding you of their messianic heroism. Should he ever reach 20 victories, the workers in the Morane-Saulnier factory are going to have to start using a more powerful engine to be able to get his growing head off the ground.

Albrecht: how beautifully written absolutely delightful.  Thank you!

Hesse: I continue to very much enjoy the adventures of Auguste Besson.

Paroni: I like your screenies! - I wonder if you are as fed up with the Morane as I am!  So slow in climbing ...

Raine: Superb - I'm enjoying the social comment in each chapter.  This war, I think, changed so much of British society - more women at work - a slight move towards a more classless society that would find fulfilment after the Second World War.

Maeran: Looking forward to this week's instalment - don't leave me hanging!

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

Flight Lieutenant Theodore Aloysius Andrews (AKA 'Runt)

RNAS-1 St. Pol-sur-Mer

Missions flown: 34

Hours: B.E.2c 37, Morane Saulnier 14

Claims confirmed:2

Claims Unconfirmed:2

August has whizzed by us at St.Pol-sur-Mer. With my promotion came a new aircraft and a number of different observers with who I have yet to make a firm bond.  Sadly, Davies is now flying with the C.O. After his excellent shooting skills came to light the Boss nabbed him forwith for himself.  Our only injuries to date have been one flying accident which hospitalised a couple of chaps for a few days.  They were soon back laughing and joking about the excellent grub and the nurses.

They are not the only ones to have had some success with the fairer sex, I too have met a quite delightful young lady.  Davies and I, though not flying together have become, odd, but firm friends, and what's more, we've both taken to the local Dunkirk coffee like ducks to water.  Our favorite coffee shop is 'Le P'tit Dupont' a charming family-run cafe that will often run to food if we are starving after a long day and fancy getting out of the mess.  The owners, Monsieur and Madame Fountaine, are charming, attentive and friendly.  But their daughter, perhaps a year or two younger than myself is beauty personified.  She is called Monique.  She and I have been secretly stepping out with one another for a couple of weeks now and it is bliss.  She is absolutely stunning,  awfully kind and speaks some English and Latin pretty well. With my French and Latin, we can talk about most things.  Though I tend to make her laugh a lot when I'm attempting to speak French - which makes me blush terribly, which makes her laugh all the more.  I don't mind, with her the war is very far away.

large.kitty.png.c0137bb82bdaaf6824c249df

Monique Fountaine

However, it has not all been a bed of roses.  Even worse than the Hun a chap I was a school with has been assigned to our squadron.  Many of my schoolmates (being as we lived in Plymouth)  joined the Navy, but few have found their way into the Royal Navy Air Service - a relief if I'm honest - as my school years were not the happiest years of my life.   Simon Ackhart was in the year above me and was a shocking brag and bully who delighted in picking on me due to my size and slightly late development.  To say I couldn't stand him would be an understatement.  He joined the Navy before me and has been stationed at NAS Calshot since September 1914, flying among other things the Short Type 827 and thankfully until the 13th of August (a Friday) our paths had never crossed.  

I returned back from a long dawn patrol to find him sitting in the long hut we call the mess, smoking a cigar and holding court, eager chaps crowding around him as he boasted of his travels, experience and general prowess.  On seeing me, limp into the mess with my stick for support, he yelled out with a huge ugly grin,

"Squeak, what the hell you doing here! I thought the women folk weren't allowed anywhere near the front line."

I was silent.

"Grab me a cup of char Squeak, and some for the other chaps too -  You'll at least make a good tea girl if you could lose your ruddy stick"  

 

large.74-1.jpg.5b66aef9ffbb6c541b7156b56

Short Type 827

The mess at once went deadly quiet, the relaxed atmosphere changed in a heartbeat.  It was Jefferson who acted first.  He got right up close to Ackhart's face, and with a swipe removed the cigar from his smug lips. 

"Now then Old Boy, I don't think that is the way any of us want to speak to one another in here.  Is it?"  There was a deep menace behind the words.

"You're new - we will make allowances - once.  But we are sailors, we live as one, and, we fight as one.  And that right there" he growled, pointing at me, "is Flight Lieutenant Theo Andrews.  A damn fine pilot with two confirmed Hun planes to his name and a couple more probable - so you just watch yourself, my lad"

The mess was silent as a pre-war night.  Jefferson, having said his bit, stood slowly upright and stalked to his piano (we'd taken to calling it his) and started thumping on the keys. It was bawdy classic,  "Three German officers crossed the Rhine"  by the time we got to the chorus "Inky-dinky parlez-vous"  the mess was in uproar singing and cheering.  A couple of the chaps gathered around me, one lit me a cigarette and spoke up - "Tell us more Squeak!" ...

large.61eedd202c0bb_CFS32022-01-2320-18-

Dawn Patrol

large.61eedd0b15e29_CFS32022-01-2017-37-

A Hun we chased off

large.61eedd3c33ebc_CFS32022-01-2415-02-

The archie getting Hot

large.61eedd2e0138c_CFS32022-01-2320-20-

The sheer beauty of the sky

To be continued ...

 

Edited by Sebtoombs
  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Paroni – Congratulations on your first confirmation!

Seb – I hope the burra memsahib is on the mend. Love the new livery! And the most recent episode was brilliant. First of all, I am deeply in love with Monique so Theo had better watch out. Then it was time to get Simon sorted. It seems you have a good lot about you in St-Pol. I can't wait to see what is in store between "Squeak" and Simon.

Hasse – Best wishes for Auguste in Matougues. It sounded like a horrendous move.

Albrecht – I loved the episode with the two letters and the different voice that Jean-Fidele uses for his mother and for his godfather. I must also echo Seb Toombs on congratulating you for a beautifully written chapter.

 

War Journal – Sergeant David Armstrong Hawkwood

4 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps

Baizieux, France

Part 5

Windmill at Baizieux

Approaching the aerodrome over our local landmark

I have been out more than three months now and have become quite used to this whole picture. There is flying about every other day now. The duty NCO hunts me down after dinner every evening to let me know what time I am to meet Mr Osborne at the sheds. I allow myself enough time to be up and washed, snatch a piece of toast and a cuppa in the mess, and enjoy a cigarette on my walk across the field. We now have lovely large canvas hangars called Bessonneaus. Each can house several machines. But one is not allowed to smoke in or about them, so I loiter about outside until I’ve done my smoke and then, if it is not too warm, I get partially kitted out for the flight. Lieutenant Osborne arrives about ten minutes before we are scheduled to lift off and tells me what orders we have. If it is a case of spotting for the guns, we use one of the two machines in the squadron that are fitted with the latest lightweight transmitters. That way we can still fly with an observer. Sometimes we are given a target on which to drop bombs, most commonly a Hun aerodrome east of Bapaume. Occasionally, our machines are given a single very large bomb, in which case only the pilot may go up. More often, we carry two or even four 20-pound bombs.

In the past week, we have been over the lines three times and have been heavily Archied each time but have not seen a single enemy machine.

On Thursday we had a football match, officers against other ranks. Sergeant-Major Parson was the referee. The ORs won 5-2, although the match was closer than the score might suggest. Captain Halahan stood out notably as an accomplished sportsman.

Major Waldron authorised two days’ leave for me on Saturday and Sunday and I caught a ride into Amiens. Had a marvellous night’s sleep in a small hotel not far from the famous cathedral and found a restaurant down by the river that did up a tremendous feed of mussels and pommes frites.  There was an embarrassing number of young women about, all of whom professed to be “varee lonely.” In better times my lack of judgement might have overwhelmed concerns for my health, but I had enjoyed a second bottle of chilled vin blanc all by myself and it took all my concentration to find my way back to my hotel and its virtuous bed! In the morning I found an English bookshop and bought a used copy of the Iliad just in case Major Waldron decides to surprise me with a quiz.

Back to work. This morning (6 September) we did another artillery spotting run. The machine is rigged with the transmission key in the pilot’s cockpit so Lieutenant Osborne got to watch me in action. Did rather well, I think.  We saw a large French Caudron machine with two engines pass by us down near the Somme – something new.

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Some real good stories in the making gents. Excellent reads! Seb, I wouldn’t know a man alive that would not fall for such a beautiful member of the female species. Absolutely stunning Amigo. 
 

Sgt. Elijah Gallagher.  
8 RFC, Marieux. 
Sept. 1915

8 Squadron had transferred to their new home just outside Doullens the previous month. They had lost one more crew during the month. Gallagher and Colbey had set up home in a decent tent with a wood floor. A small stand between the cots with a lamp and a coat hanger they had fashioned out of scrap wood. “Home sweet home!” Gallagher had proclaimed. It didn’t take long to realize they had an unwanted guest. A rat! “Big as a hedge hog he is!” was Colbey’s description.   
One evening when Colbey came in from a flight, Gallagher was outside whittling on a piece of wood. “What you makin’ for the house now?” he had asked. Gallagher held up the wood he was whittling on. It looked like a “Y”. “This here, my friend, is a sling shot and I’m going to get that dammed rat!”  Colbey laughed! “What ya gon do, pin he to the ground?! Gallagher laughed back at his friend, “Just you wait and see!” 
Two nights latter as they lay on their cots, Gallagher heard their visitor scurry over the wood floor. Gallagher put his finger to his lips for Colbey not to move. He eased up in the bed and took a rock from the 4 he had placed on the nightstand and put it in his slingshot. He was ready. When he saw the rat poke his head out from under one of the flight coats on the hanger he pulled back, aimed and let fly. SMACK! “Victory!” Exclaimed Colbey. “Victory my arse” replied Gallagher, “I killed the b@#tard dead as a door nail!” 
On Gallagher’s first flight from their new home he spotted his first Boche machine. It was only two specks in the distance while crossing the lines but it had to be the enemy or the Army was shooting at a friendly machine. “I was beginning to think there were no enemy machines in this war!” He thought. Flights were mostly Arty spotting. Archie was pretty lively here but Gallagher was used to it. 
The  past week, he had been flying with a new leader who had transferred in. Lt. Sholto Douglas. The man was military to the bone. He had addressed Gallagher before their first flight. “Capt. Goon informs me you are a good pilot”. he had stated in a matter of fact way.  
“Thank you Sir” Gallagher had replied. “So how does a Yank pilot find himself flying here?”  he asked in the same matter of fact way. 
Gallagher straightened his back and replied in the same matter of fact tone “A bit of a misunderstanding with a superior officer, I’m afraid.” Lt. Douglas laughed out loud, “Well then Sergeant, it seems we have a bit in common.” With that, the three machines left for the morning mission. 

Note: Lord Sholto Douglas transfered from the Artillery to the RFC after a disagreement with a superior officer.  

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
11 hours ago, Mfair621 said:

SMACK! “Victory!” Exclaimed Colbey. “Victory my arse” replied Gallagher, “I killed the b@#tard dead as a door nail!” 

Haha!!! Brilliant made me laugh out loud.  I think Gallagher's rough and ready consequences be damned attitude is brilliant!  These farmers from the colonies have a lot to teach us. Thank you too for the kind words about my latest instalment, and Monique!!! 

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Sgt. Elijah Gallagher. 
8RFC, Marieux. 
Sept. 10, 1915

It had been a rough week for the squadron. Gallagher and Colbey had visited Doullens on the afternoon of the 6th. The two pilots were looking for pure pleasure and they found it in a part of town that had seen better days. Upon entering the building, neither  of them were not expecting much. Everyone knew the prettiest women worked where the officers were. This was definitely not what one would call high class. “Good thing this place is all smoked upl” Gallagher said. “Kind of hard to see clear.” Colbey chimed in, “After a few pints, you be seein’ clear enough lad!”  Colbey stopped in his tracks and exclaimed “Bless me! I see mine right in front of me!”  Gallagher looked ahead at two women sitting at a table. The one on the left looked like she might be 4’-2” and maybe just as tall! The one on the right was not the prettiest gal Gallagher had layed eyes on but she was built like a brick outhouse! “Couldn’t have picked a better one my friend! Go in for a landing!” Gallagher said to his friend. Colbey strutted forward and pulled up a chair next to the big one and draped an arm around her. Gallagher was stunned! “I guess he likes the healthy ones!” He thought. “Bet she could pull a plow with the best of’em!” Gallagher walked over to the other lady and asked, “Mind if I have a seat Mam?” Colbey burst out in laughter. “She no understood a word ye say lad, sit ya butt down!”   
They walked back to Marieux as happy as two young men could be. 
On the 8th, Gallagher would join Lieutenant Miller with Douglas as flight leader for a special recon mission. The took off before first light and Gallagher got separated right out of the gate! “This is goin’ south quick!” he thought. He flew to the climb out point and low and behold found Douglas. To say he was relieved would be a major understatement! They reached the lines west of Bapaume and started the mission. Goon was leaning over the side making notes when a search light hit them both in the eyes. Gallagher was temporarily blinded! He felt the panic in his throat. He could taste it! “Get it together boy!” He told himself. His sight returned and he calmed a bit but he had lost Douglas again! “And where is Miller?” he asked himself. Then the Archie found them. It most likely was not any worse than usual but in the dark, the flash was bright and menacing. Gallagher could feel the fear in his chest but made himself remain calm as he and Goon continued alone. Finally Goon signaled for him to return and Gallagher pointed the machine home as fast as he could. As they crossed back over the lines, he relaxed a bit but was wondering what happened to everyone. He then saw Douglas to the south and joined up. Upon landing he learned Miller and Roberts had both been killed when their machine crashed after takeoff. He never saw a thing. 
The next day, Colbey had left with the afternoon patrol and never returned. A Direct hit by Archie! As Gallagher sat on his cot that night, looking at the empty bunk across from him, he thought over the last 3 months. “I’m going to miss you my friend” he thought. 
 

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

30 August

Armand's Diary

Offensive patrol to Vimy Ridge

 

Squadron mate Adj.Jailler wrote:

It would been a typical routine flight over the front,Bouchant just as eager to credit victories...

Armand got it!

Shot01-22-22-19-38-04.thumb.jpg.139e1772348debec72e581659340b774.jpg

Shot01-22-22-19-38-16.thumb.jpg.1c7cce3113e92748e121c8c9e3ccd9f1.jpg

Armand was too focus when followed Boche...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Continue...

Armand turned too sharply toward home and catastrophe was ready!

Devienne and Armand collided!

Shot01-22-22-19-38-42.thumb.jpg.ad4cfa389316ce469650088d718bef1f.jpg

Both fell into their fate!

Shot01-22-22-19-38-49.thumb.jpg.98caff2c88938c5d6ad55b41ca14e900.jpg

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Continue...

Shot01-22-22-19-39-07.thumb.jpg.ff967b7d59c8926795e2d4b623e686e0.jpg

No much left of the Morane.

Shot01-22-22-19-39-08.thumb.jpg.bfc06dc0d3c9292ce567a036d609f5c5.jpg

Adj.Devienne and Sgt.Alibert got same fate.

So ended glorious days of airfighters Jean Perron and Armand Bouchant.

We miss them!

 

  • Sad 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
2 hours ago, Paroni1 said:

Adj.Devienne and Sgt.Alibert got same fate.

So ended glorious days of airfighters Jean Perron and Armand Bouchant.

We miss them!

oh no ... So sorry Paroni!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Thank you compassion,Septoombs !

This is painful time mates!Two pilots,two deaths.I am very near an average WW1 pilots life expectancy.14 days or so...

Hard to create novellic background when your pilot get killed before he becomes properly acquainted.

Yet i have to confess one thing:

During Armand's last flight i have a fever because Covid.

So i was not the most attentive when flying.Sorry Armand!

image.png.69fa375d7cece7603f82f773f8f56e71.png

Sous Lieutenant Armand Bouchant  (KiA 8\30\1915) 2 confirmed,10unconfirmed air victories.

Edited by Paroni1
  • Thanks 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

I do hope you are recovering quickly from COVID.

Very sorry to learn that Armand went west. 

The narrative is a challenge when losing men so quickly.  One option which I will employ when I finally join in the fun here is the 'Reenlist' button on the main pilot dossier page.  This allows you to start a new pilot in the same squadron with the same personnel, the day after your previous pilot dies.  Perhaps you might pick up the tale of Armand's tent mate.  Just a thought.

Take Care,

epower

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Paroni: Like epower I hope you recover really soon my friend! Thinking of you.

Mfair: I continue to really enjoy Sgt. Elijah Gallagher's story and feel his pain as he grieves his friend!  Loved the catapult 'kill'

Raine: As I was once told many years ago, "Football is a gentlemen's game played by thugs". "Rugby is a thugs' game played by gentlemen".   I continue to enjoy the details.

_________

Flight Lieutenant Theodore Aloysius Andrews (AKA 'Runt)

RNAS-1 St. Pol-sur-Mer

Missions flown: 40

Hours: B.E.2c 37, Morane Saulnier 20

Claims confirmed:5

Claims Unconfirmed:2

10th September 1915

Having Simon Ackart in the squadron has put a real dampener on things at St Pol-Sur-Mer that only Monique (bless her soul) can lift.  Shortly after our first meeting in the mess we had a more uncomfortable encounter, with no witnesses - just the way Ackart likes it.  While walking to my basher, enjoying the stars and a last cigarette for the evening, out of nowhere I heard Simon's slimy drawl, "Better watch the guy ropes Squeak" at that moment my cane was knocked from under me, by I swear his boot, and I went flying (not in a good way).  I landed heavily, my cigarette flying in a glowing arc, I heard sniggering as I dusted myself off, collected my cane and walked, chin up, with as much dignity as I could to my tent.

Monique, however, continues to put a smile on my face and has plans for my birthday on the 13th.  I can't wait! She has a special walk planned to her favourite tree followed by a meal that she will cook. Bliss.

 

Despite Ackart my flying career continues well, though the night after my fall I was very stiff and found flying less easy, however, as if to make up for the tensions in the Squadron I have become a 'Star Turn' or as the French like to call it an 'Ace'.  Five confirmed air combat victories. Honestly, I have never flown better than since I met Monique - I carry her picture with me next to my heart - her angelic presence watching over me.  On the first of the month, I bagged two Aviatiks who had been harassing our home airfield in one patrol.  They were lower than normal attacking trucks - on approaching them they started to flee north to the sea and a chase quickly ensued.  Wonderfully enough I was with Davies again (CO had a 48-hour pass) We must have hit the fuel tank of the first one pretty quickly on our first pass as it started to leak vapour and ditched quite comfortably on the sea.   The second Hun was a bit more tricky, no trouble for Davies, who shot off his wingtip then proceeded to take potshots at his engine,  causing him to nose dive and have a very ugly crash into the briny sea.

large.61f2d2850cca7_CFS32022-01-2716-07-

Second Hun plunges to the sea

large.61f2d262286f9_CFS32022-01-2716-09-

Just debris and oil marked their final resting place

large.61f2d26c97935_CFS32022-01-2716-26-

The first Aviatik ditched safely and was picked up by a Navy vessel

My fifth victory happened just a week later over Mene.  We were on patrol when we spotted two Aviatiks in formation near the lines.  Davies (who has still yet to be summoned back to the CO) and I flew towards them and once again Davies let 'em have it.  Very quickly the engine of one exploded and burst into flames.  The poor chaps plummeted about 5000 feet in a burning plane.  Davies and I felt very sombre flying home, agreeing that this was a truly horrific way to die.  We actually shared a prayer together for them and their families.  The rest of the Squadron weren't close by so I couldn't call anyone as a witness.  Both of us had low expectations of confirmation.  However,  much to our surprise it was confirmed!   

large.61f2d72428b80_CFS32022-01-2715-27-

large.61f2dccd29099_Screenshot(249).png.

A terrible way to die

Much to my satisfaction, Ackhart has been very quiet about my victories, what's more, he has got something of a name for himself at getting lost and lagging behind the rest of the squadron.  If at some point I receive a medal for these last three and a half months I shall have great delight in rubbing his ugly face in it.  Ungentlemanly I know, quite honestly I am surprised by the person I am becoming. But I suppose war changes a chap in surprising ways.

large.61f2dcca347ea_Screenshot(243).png.

My childhood bully "...prone to getting lost".

Finally, to our dismay this afternoon we ran into two German monoplanes.  We all thought they were light green Moranes - they looked exactly the same.  Almost too late we saw big German crosses on the wings Davies got off a few rounds as did a couple of the other chaps, they dived away, unwilling to take on a formation of 5 Moranes and we left them alone. On our return to the airfield, we realised we'd taken a few rounds. The Skies are looking slightly more dangerous tonight.

To be continued ...

Edited by Sebtoombs
  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

August 1915 catch-up

While eager to finally get back in the skies, Mladenov's career got a rather unlucky turn for the month. On his second flight, in the first half of august, his machine suffered an engine malfunction which almost resulted fatal to him and his observer. As they were approaching  Bertincourt for landing, oil splatted onto their glasses, as the engine began rumbling. First a few puffs of black smoke, which quickly turned into fire, were now attacking the crate. As the observer was quick in pulling out his Broomhandle just in case, they were able to crash land a few yards away from the aerodrome. Neither of them suffered significant injuries.

But it was not all, as the wonder-pair began to notice a couple new enemy birds lifting up in the air, both French and English. A new English biplane, with a weirdly-set Lewis machine gun on its side, made its appearence over Flanders. Mladenov's machine was victim of the strike of two of the aggressive enemies, which dived on a strafe while Lyuben was patrolling the frontline airspace. They seem to still be rather shy, those Englishmen, as they immediately retreated after the first, damaging but not lethal attack.

September 1915 catch-up

He flew his first September mission on the 4th. He, as much as his Kameraden, were getting more skeptic everyday, as the increase of enemy armed machines was evergrowing. On a solo sortie along the frontline heading South, the Bulgarian was struck by a French scout. The machine seemed nimble, extremely light, and lethally armed with a Lewis machinegun. Lyuben immediately went for friendly lines, but the stubborn enemy wasn't convinced. He kept on following him. At that point Mladenov decided to pull one of the riskiest manouveres he had ever done. He put his nose down, towards the ground, gaining significant speed. As the Paulie began diving onto him, Lyuben immediately pulled its nose up, getting in a stall. This overwhelmed the Frenchman, who didn't have time to react, therefore losing significant control of his aircraft and losing a significant amount of altitude. As a barrage of friendly AA began landing around the two wooden crates, the French decided to call the day, and went back for his lines.

The 6th, Mladenov woke up with a strange feeling. He felt something was off, like it was the day something significant would happen. And something significant happened indeed. Top brass called for an unusual 5-men missions above Albert, BEL. Just as expected, they encountered two French scouts right above the city. Everybody immediately turned back for their lines. The Bulgarian had made significant ground and was at a safe distance, but he realized his Kameraden were in the thich of AA and enemy aircraft fire. He wasn't going to stay and watch. He immediately veered back, straight towards the scouts. He was indeed able to set them off with such an unexpected move. The machine he was facing immediately pulled down, diving away, as the other one immediately went for his buddy right next to Lyuben. Enough experience had teached Mladenov that the landing gear of the Aviatik were...Quite resistant. He made a heavy pull to the left, on a direct collision-course with the Paulie...He had hoped he would hit the crate with the gear, but unfortunately his wing went in the way first. He realized it too late, and him and the French collided directly. The two aircraft were now one, heading directly towards the ground. Mladenov's observer died on the impact with the enemy plane, while both pilots were still alive. While falling off the ground, the two enemies looked at each other. While in the absolute and surreal silence of the air, the Frenchman looked desperate: it was clear he was absolutely ashamed of dying that way (but after all, that's what he had signed for, right?). He made the sign of the cross and then put the revolver in his mouth.

Bang

Mladenov wasn't going to die with such shame in his body. He felt complete. He had allowed his Kameraden to make it back to base. He pulled out the Mauser, and took a shot to his head.
He was later found by British men on the ground, and was later buried with full military honours, and with 1 credited kill in his tally. He was going to be remembered as a hero by FFA 32.

P.S. I did forget to fill in the claim for the bird, but I figured that such an ending would make it more romantic..

I'd kindly request a new input for my new entry from the CM, either British or German, I don't mind!

Screenshot (1).png

Edited by trustworthykebab
Added image
  • Sad 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
12 minutes ago, trustworthykebab said:

He had hoped he would hit the crate with the gear, but unfortunately his wing went in the way first. He realized it too late, and him and the French collided directly.

Oh trustworthykebab I'm so sorry - It was a million to one shot that just might have worked.   I hope your next pilot continues in the same courageous way - it was a highly entertaining chapter! 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Seb, thanks for the kind words. He died doing what he loved, and saving his friends in doing so. 
I must apologize for such a rushed report, but have little free time on average! I want to let y'all know that I'm always catching up with the rest of the adventures!

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

MFair – Really enjoying your man's story. He is often the right foot with Sholto Douglas.

Paroni – Very saddened to see Armand fall like that. I hope your back up with your next pilot quickly.

Seb – "Runt" has quickly become the star of the campaign so far. Congratulations to him (and his muse, Monique) on his fifth victory. Outstanding work! Beyond that, the interplay with Simon Acker is a great storyline. The man is a cad and a bounder indeed.

Hawkwood has had an extremely uneventful career so far. The way it's going I fly missions over the Western Front to relax after a stressful hour of Euro Truck Simulator! I expect it will heat up quickly enough.

 

War Journal – Sergeant David Armstrong Hawkwood

4 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps

Baizieux, France

Part 6

On 15 September 1915, Major Waldron left us as he had been transferred to a training command back in England. Our new commanding officer is a Major Todd, whom to date I have met only on parade. My observer, Lieutenant Osborne, is now proudly wearing the new observer’s badge on his tunic. It is a poor thing in my opinion, merely a letter “O” with a single wing, and it seems deliberately designed to be less than the pilot’s badge. It has quickly gained the name “the flying arsehole.”

The second half of September saw us do a reasonable number of patrols, mainly artillery spotting with the odd reconnaissance flight thrown in for good measure. Most of this work took us well north of the Somme to the area east and north of Arras. On 21 September, our guns began a massive bombardment in that sector leading up to an attack on the enemy positions around Loos on 25 September. We were all abuzz with anticipation of a breakthrough and an ending to this terrible stalemate. By the evening of 25 September, however, we knew that the initial advances had been checked, in part due to weather and in part due to enemy counter-attacks. There would be no more idle talk about getting home for Christmas.

This entire month I saw no Huns in the air, although I know they were there. I heard the reports of others and on 19 September we lost a machine to one of the new Fokker monoplanes.

September ended with three days of rain, which kept us on the ground and out of the war. The Royal Engineers were here with a work party from the DLI and we now have a fine wooden building with a tin roof for the Warrant Officers’ and Sergeants’ Mess. Everyone pitched in and helped to paint the place. The Technical Sergeant Major, who is appropriately named Tinker, has acquired a large framed picture of the King to hang on the end wall. He has firmly rebuffed the efforts of the mess members to hang pictures taken from La Vie Parisienne. “Leave that sort of filthy rubbish to the officers,” he told us. But at least there is beer…

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Seb - You left out the final bit.  Hurling is a Thugs game, played by thugs.

Judge a Runt by his size do you, and well you should not.  Your man is doing very well indeed

  • Thanks 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Absolutely brilliant stuff, even though I don’t fly the DiD campaign I absolutely love your reports shots and videos gentlemen. Thank you.

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The tale of Ailbe Blaz Dziarzowitz

Ailbe was born May 14th, 1893, from a relatively wealthy Jewish family in Stettin. His father owned a drug store, where he used to spend all the time he wasn't at school. Very quickly, though, he found out about his newly developed love: air machinery. They used to spend their summers on the countryside, near a newly founded aerodrome from where mystical machines made of canvas and wood used to take swift flights up in the air. When he was 17, he managed to befriend the son of one of the few lucky owners of such mechanical wonders, and it was right in that crate where he took his..."Maiden flight". As any could expect, it did not end well at all: the machine didn't leave the ground, instead crashing into one of the hangar doors much to the displeasure of the rightful owner, who was unaware of his son's friend's passion. Luckily the damage wasn't serious, and Ailbe got off with just a big, fat, slap on his face.

In 1913, as fears of a new conflict rose behind the horizon, Ailbe decided to fulfill his forbidden love and to enlist in the Luftstreitkrafte. He hadn't finished his training when World War I began, and although he showed admirable flying skills, was deemed ready for deployment at the beginning of 1915. Unfortunately for him, he'd have to wait until October of the same year as he was hit with a rather violent bronchitis who struck him in bed for a good amount of time. He was called, towards the beginning of September to Haubourdin, Flanders, as he was going to operate within the newly formed Feldflieger-Abteilung 5.

Edited by trustworthykebab
  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

September 15 1915

Savy Aerodrome,Flanders

A truck swayed and finally stopped in the front of the Officer's mess.

A lonely officer left out of the car.A group of officers came against the briefcases in their hands.

A lieutenant shake rookies hand and said:

-Ah,you are the guy.Keep up the high spirit of Chevalier Escadrona!Sergeant Saumande stay with you .You get familiar with everything.

Bonne chance,Mon ami!

The officers and their servants boarded the truck.

 

Knock Knock!

-Come in!You must be Sous Lieutenant...

-Castillac,Henry Castillac,Sir!

-Exactly.I am Capitaine  Thayne Huillier.As you saw it and hear the few rumour probably,here comes little changes.Two-seater Moranes are put into training use.

Our whole name change MS15 to N15.

A series of brand new Nieuport 10's will come in the coming days.

-Is that type a familiar to you?

-No,Sir.I have fly only Moranes.There were no others in the training center,Sir.

-It's nothing.Nieu should be easy plane what i have heard.Well ,here are yet one Parasol.Saumande gets to show the front line,landmarks and so.Dismiss!

61f46092f136d_HenriCastillac(1).jpg.77d76e37ea281eb88c0d075d170dcb93.jpg  Sous Lieutenant Henry Caspar Castillac,born in Lyon 1897.His parents work as inn keepers.Served voluntary an infantry regiment.Transfered air service at spring 1915.

16-18 September

The new scouts arrive here every day.Lorries bring them parts and maintenance staff.

19 September

Henri's maiden flight here.

-Okay,your first and mine last here,Sir!We make turn over the front and try to get out all troubles.No worry!

Weather was really nice and sunshing.

The Battle of Artois has began.Artillely barrages were intensive.No sign of EA.

61f4604a3688d_HenriwithMoraneParasolL.png.4b689fb6f453648f7d037ec8f1c41912.png  Henry an Morane Parasol L.

Finally home and safe!

-Farewell,Sir.Shoot the Boches down the sky.

They shaked hands.

-I promise that,Sergeant.

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Two more have fallen! Good luck with your new pilots gents, it will get even more dangerous in the coming weeks. 
Seb, keep your mind on the job Amigo. The last thing you need is the picture of that beautiful face when a Fokker flies up your tail!  
Raine, it’s going to get busy for your pilot and mine since the new offensive kicked off. Stay safe. 
 

How in the world are you folks seeing all these Boche planes. Gallagher has only seen two at a distance! I’m sure it will heat up soon. 

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

×

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use, Privacy Policy, and We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..