Sebtoombs

Brilliant Maeran, cracking report! Classic Le Mesurier.

Paroni I'm enjoying Armand's Diary, thanks! Maeran I absolutely love Le Mesurier fighting spirit. I can't get an image of John Le Mesurier out of my mind as I read! Mfair loving the story so far! "The weather worsened as did The Hun" 1 July - 5 July As June turned to July the weather worsened as did The Hun. There's talk of some single-deck scouts causing havoc for the french - thank the Lord I've not seen one yet. They apparently fire in the direction the plane is flying - that would make life a lot easier. We've had some very heavy weather - storms that drown out the front and make flying a hairy old business. The early July weather has been a poor show indeed! By the 4th of July, the weather has improved and we were back to clear skies. The Boch wanted to capitalise on this and started bombing Dunkirk and St.Pol-sur-Mer with gay-abandon. The cads! At 0500 on the 5th, we were scrambled to two Aviatiks loitering overhead at about 8000 feet. I reckon, if I can get my mixture right, I climb best at about 45-50 knots. I set off after the blighters climbing the whole way. They either didn't see us or were pushing their luck grossly outstaying their welcome by bombing our hangers. When I passed through 6000 feet they got the wind-up and started to make for home. I wasn't having it, and gave chase - hoping to down one our side of the lines this time. It was a long and protracted business. Involving much bobbing and weaving but we did it, bringing one down our side of the lines in the woods southeast of Nieuport. The claim is pending. Dodging and DIving with an Aviatik BI The Boss is delighted and says that for a Runt of 19 I'm doing a hell of a man's job! High praise indeed.

Nice Job Paroni!! Feels good to be on this side of the war (at the moment...) Great escape, though sorry about your claim! Vive la liberté 01/06/15 - 01/07/15 A good month. Some exciting moments particularly forcing down the unarmed Aviatik! Mostly patrols and reccy. The weather has been very mixed. Jefferson and I became firm friends - He is currently on leave and I have a new chap 'Davies' who doesn't say much at all - The patrols take longer without Jefferson. As I step into July I look forward to taking the war to the Hun. Grotty June weather

23 June 1915 St Pol-sur-mer 0500 The C.O. Christopher Cleaver, standing ramrod straight and impeccably dressed, briefed us. “Morning Gentlemen, hope you slept well after the fun and games last night. I’ll be flying with ‘B’ today” He began. “Our mission is a patrol deep into Hunland, we believe there is a large troop movement near Lager Abchnitt. Headquarters wants information, details and timings as soon as possible. You’ll have noticed that the Huns are not happy with us crossing their lines and are taking every opportunity to shoot at us with Archie and ground fire. Let’s be careful. And look sharp!” With that we strode with purpose across the dewy airfield to our waiting warmed-up aircraft and look to the azure skies. We spent 20 minutes. Climbing over our airfield, the ground crew and airfield paraphernalia becoming smaller and smaller each minute. It was another good flying day, only a few majestic clouds above us and a light breeze to hinder our return. We crossed the lines without incident and Cleaver set a course for Lager Abschnitt. As we were closing on the Archie that surrounds Ghistelles airfield I spotted two small dots flying directly towards us and slightly lower. It was far too early for our chaps to be heading home. Thinking it must be German Aircraft I cursed myself for forgetting my rifle. As we began to close I could clearly see the black crosses and quickly identified two Aviatiks flying within 500 yards of us. I couldn’t bear the thought of those Huns either photographing or bombing our chaps so Jefferson and I turned to engage. Diving between them Jefferson started shooting. The noise was deafening! I hadn’t quite appreciated how close the Lewis was to my head and very quickly my face was covered in black soot and the cockpit filled with the wonderful smell of cordite. Jefferson and I worked as a team, him telling me where to fly and taking wonderful shots at them me manoeuvring for all I’m worth, dodging puffs of menacing Archie and lining up our BE2. After about 5 minutes of shooting and dodging Ghistelles’ flak one of the Aviatiks, either damaged or scared stiff by our plucky antics retreated east. But the other fellow wasn’t for quitting. So again and again we dived and turned and turned and climbed on the other Aviatik. At one point Jefferson swears I looped the BE2 - maybe he's right, I was lost in the dance - though I’m told it’s impossible. (5:30-5:45 in the video below) After about twenty minutes of this Jefferson shouted above the wind in the wires, “We’ve hit the cads engine!” Sure enough, his prop was stubbornly still, his engine seized, he was hors de combat and descending towards Ghistelles. We closed on the hapless Hun, Jefferson taking the odd pot shot just to make sure. “Cut it out Jefferson ” I shouted, “We’re sailors, not bloody butchers!” The Aviakit landed softly. As we flew over the stunned Germans we could see the observer clutching his shoulder and appearing in pain. The pilot grimaced as we flew by cheering and making hideous soot-stained faces at the vanquished foes. It felt like a huge victory. Our first aircraft downed and one forced to retreat with its tail between its legs, unable to fulfil its mission. The squadron crowded around us, cheering as we landed and we told the incredible tales of our cunning and heroics. An incredibly good day!

Oh No!!! I'm so sorry to hear about Viktor. such sad news! I hate it when a pilot dies. What will happen to his dog? Take care my friend

I'm enjoying all the reports - thank you! June 11-22 St. Pol-Sur-Mer In the last ten days, I have flown about 10 hours over the front and behind enemy lines. The Archie has been more active, and the Hun are getting their eye in. This means it's a rare sight for any of us to come home unscathed. My singing companion is a firm friend now, we chuckle and sing together and most of the time this seems more like a jolly trip than a war. However, after some dismal days that had grounded us, we were airborne on the 22nd. After we had returned from an hours flight on our side of the lines I was just mooching in the Office, minding my own busy when our one and only phone rang. It was an urgent call from First Army HQ to locate some artillery that was causing our infantry a great deal of discomfort. 'A' fight was still up with the boss and 'B' had just landed - but Jefferson and I were happy to turn around and get straight up over the lines. After about thirty minutes of flying as low as we dared over the Boch lines, we spotted the offending artillery, close to a deserted farmhouse. Jefferson made some detailed drawings on our map. The Germans were undeniably unhappyto be spied on by us and fired everything they had at us, rifles, revolvers even a machine gun. One bullet actually penetrated the hull of our BE2 and hit my boot! To my relief, the bullet was lodged in the lining of my right boot. I was uninjured but it put the 'wind up' us somewhat. At that point, we felt we'd used up our luck and skedaddled back to our side of the lines slowly as the wind was against us all the way. We made a landing close to our lines and met in the mud a tremendous Artillary lieutenant called Tyrrel Hawker. He was an absolutely charming fellow, making us feel right at home with a cup of steaming tea. He was very grateful for our assistance and contacted HQ on his wireless set. It turns out He is Lanoe Hawker's brother. Hawker is in the RFC and an incredible pilot, warrior and inventor. Leaving the army chaps in their trench we headed home and were treated to one of the Good Lord's finest displays, the mesmerizing setting sun playing on a gentle sea. As we landed the C.O. rushed out to us beaming from ear to ear. A general from First Army HQ had called and wanted to thank personally RNAS-1 for its brave pilots. Particularly those who had located the Hun guns that afternoon! The C.O. chest was puffed to bursting. "Don't get that often from the Army Chaps Heh!" He beamed, "Well done!"