Sebtoombs

4 hours ago, Mfair621 said:

Half way through the mission Gallagher saw an Archie burst dangerously close to Douglas. Douglas immediately veered off! Goddard and Gallagher finished the mission and made this way back home. Gallagher was worried about Douglas. Did he make it? He soon got word he and his observer had landed at a friendly field and both were ok. 

That Archie is a pain! like the sound of Colonel Bond too ... reminds me of an officer I had back in the day! Nice writing buddy. 

Lederhosen : Welcome to Enno!

Hasse : Smashing picture of the Nieuport 10 C.1 now that's a beauty...

---------

Flight Lieutenant Theodore Aloysius Andrews (AKA 'Runt)

RNAS-1 St. Pol-sur-Mer

Missions flown: 42

Hours: B.E.2c 37, Morane Saulnier 25

Claims confirmed:5

1st October  1915

HMS Indefatigable

The second half of September has been a grim time!  It started well with my cousin Archie joining me while on leave from HMS Indefatigable.  We have always been very close, he is five years older than me, strong and athletic and seems to succeed in everything he does, whether cricket, ruby or cross country running.  I remember vividly the day I skipped school to visit him at Devonport Dockyard when Indefatigable launched in 1909, my school being but a stone's throw away, The Marine Band played stirring tunes that lifted my heart, and I knew that I too would be a sailor.  It thrilled my heart when I received a telegram saying he'd be with me for my birthday.

He'd spent much of his career in the Mediterranean, at war with the Ottomans, so I rarely get to see him. However, since a refit in Malta, the Indefatigable has been conducting patrols in the North Sea and according to him, it's all been pretty tame.  He's always been one to have itchy feet and an adventurous heart and my letters have only served to fuel that fire. It came as no surprise and with great delight that he told me that he was thinking of applying for flying training. With that in mind I took him up for a joyride in the Morane and he was utterly spellbound with the sheer beauty of the skies and the sense of being airborne. He told me he'd never felt so free or alive.  Sunrise is a beautiful thing on the ground but, in the air, it is sublime.

Cousin Archie and Me

I had great pleasure in introducing him to Monique and we went out dancing in Dunkirk.  My Leg injury means I can't dance. I always did have two left feet but a flying accident in training makes it nigh on impossible to move with any grace or fluidity.   Not so with Archie, he has the grace of a cat and the timing of Big Ben.  It was a positive thrill to see him and Monique dancing to the early hours with such joy and abandon.  Her face was a picture glowing with joy and happiness. 

He left on the 14th promising to apply for flying training and I was thrilled to think we may one day fly together.  As I walked back into the mess from seeing him off Ackart grabbed my arm. 

"A word in your 'shell-like' Runt" 

At school, Ackart delighted in calling me 'Squeak', I'm a year younger and much smaller - to make matters worse I had bad asthma as a child -  many of the boys in school would tease me calling me 'Squeek' or 'Wheezy' Andrews.  I was always ready to put up a fight but my slight size and general late development meant I was easy-meat most of the time.  On joining the Royal Navy my young age and size meant I had been christened  'Runt' pretty quickly.  Mostly it was said with affection as I had learnt very quickly to stand up and fight back quickly at the first sign of trouble.  Archie had said in the past I was too quick to anger and much too quick to prove myself.  I'd started to listen to him until Ackart rolled to the squadron.

Ackart had me by the arm and was leading me towards my basher.  "I saw you last night," he said in that oily way that usually meant he was up to something unpleasant. 

"Saw your nice young lady too, dancing away with your cousin. I understand why you've been keeping her secret - you'd hardly want her to meet a real man, would you?" He oozed

"Your cousin and her make such a wonderful couple, don't you think?" He carried on.

"Such a shame that she's stuck with a wounded sap like you, don't you think?"  His face was contorted in mock sympathy.  My blood just boiled, I was sick to the back teeth of his perverse attitude and had had quite enough of his ugly mug for one lifetime.

So I punched him. 

A full roundhouse, coming up on the balls of my feet and putting all my 9 Stone into it. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. I left him there in the dirt out cold.  I knew there would be hell to pay but I didn't care.

I was out on the afternoon patrol that day, the whole flight I was thinking myself,  There's going be trouble when we land.  I had such a lump in my stomach, I'm surprised we could even take off!  I told Davies who quietly listened to the whole story as we patrolled over allied factories over Flanders.  

"He's got it coming old man" He replied, "But you'll just have to take whatever's coming to you on the chin".

We landed and I expected Cleaver any moment to approach and admonish. But nothing, not a dicky bird.  No one said anything.  I spoke to Thomson our intelligence officer, casually asking about local Hun squadrons, thinking he'd say something if he knew anything - nothing, just the uncomfortable news that more Hun monoplane scouts were amassing on their side of the lines. 

I saw nothing of Ackart for a couple of days, when I did finally see him he was sporting a huge black eye - which he apparently got from banging his face during a very heavy landing.  "Want some steak for that?" I said smiling. He just turned away.  But I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he was up to something.

The next day Davies and I were on patrol with two other chaps, being led by Red Mulock, when I spotted three spots crossing our lines and throwing up allied Archie slightly north of us.  I wagged my wings and went to investigate.  Sure enough, it was three Aviatiks flying southwest 1000 feet lower.  I let Davies know and we flew right between them.  Davies, spoilt for choice started firing at the Hun.  The Aviatiks headed straight for home. "Are you up for a chase Davies", I asked a grin forming on my face.  I had turned round to pursue before he'd even answered.  They made due east which took them towards an observation balloon and its treaded anti-aircraft fire. The Archie was formidable and much too close for comfort.  We saw one Aviatik start to smoke but each blast of anti-aircraft fire was closer than the one before. Davies spoke across the din, "This is too hot damn it, take us home"  I didn't need telling twice and swung the Morane west.

Archie was too hot for us

In a matter of moments, there was an almighty crash, the engine housing ripped open and flew up over our heads, narrowly missing stripping the fabric off the wing.  The engine ground to a noisy halt and began to self destruct before our unbelieving eyes.  Both of us, from what I could see, was un-harmed but the Morane was seriously damaged.  " I think I can put it down" I hissed to Davies through clenched teeth, fighting with the controls. "But it's going to be rough."  

We spiralled down as gently as I dared, Archie going with us the whole way. It wouldn't have taken much to swat us from the air, but our luck held, and we came to a stop behind enemy lines.  Before we could think about setting fire to the Morane  A german, with a square-headed helmet emerged from a hole, not 10 feet from us  "Hände hoch oder ich schieße! "  he shouted while pointing a gun.  There was no argument we could put up and so with arms raised, we were taken into captivity.

There's much I could tell you about those three days.  But those memories are too grim - suffice to say we both escaped, making it back across the lines to Nieuport from there we called the squadron's telephone who quickly sent a tender for us.  

On arriving back at St. Pol-Sur-Mer we were treated to hot baths, delousing and gin.  Thompson wanted a full report and was pretty cagey about us flying again. "If you're caught a second time you'll be shot," he said "I'm not sure you want to take your chances like that".

"So we're grounded"

"For a few days - 'till we get the all-clear at least."

I packed a small overnight bag and hopped on a tender going to Dunkirk.  There was one person I knew who would be able to put a smile on my face, who could make my worries dissolve.  As I limped with my stick into the 'Le P'tit Dupont' I saw M. Fountaine standing proudly but the counter straightening his white apron a welcome in his face. I glanced around hoping to see Monique. 

I did.

Sitting in the corner, laughing as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.  I started towards her, joy, hope, love in my heart - her memory had got me through some pretty dark days.  It was then I saw who she laughed with. Simon Ackard.

My world collapsed.

To be continued ...

8 minutes ago, AlbertTross said:

He is the direct replacement for one Lanoe Hawker

Great start AlbertTross - big boots to fill! love the Scottish background!

2 hours ago, Hasse Wind said:

It's interesting that some have already encountered enemy planes several times and even managed to score victories, while others have yet to spot a single hostile machine.

Hasse Wind: It may be the setting I'm on? My PC is pretty ancient (upgrade due but way too expensive at the moment) so I've got the medium regional air activity and medium forced encounters in worship (as recommended by epower)? 

Paroni - love the new start!

15 hours ago, Albrecht_Kaseltzer said:

16 hours ago, Mfair621 said:

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!  

Or maybe Seb could strategically place pictures of her around the plane to keep his head turning at all intervals.

Hahaha! 

Salute!

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! 

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.

Second Hun plunges to the sea

Just debris and oil marked their final resting place

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!   

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.

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 ...

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!

21 hours ago, jerhear said:

Skins pack 6 is out.  Here are some of the skins, more pictures are on the Mods Release thread, I had to split them between the two posts to get them all on this forum.

Brilliant! Thank you ...

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!!! 

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.

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"  

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!" ...

Dawn Patrol

A Hun we chased off

The archie getting Hot

The sheer beauty of the sky

To be continued ...

Hi Gang! Lots for me to catch up with. RL very busy - My wife has had a major op so I'm chief cook and bottle washer for a few days - I did snatch a bit of time last night and skinned my new plane.  The promotion came with a sting in its tail.  A new Morane L.

I look forward to catching up properly in a few days!

Salute!!

Paroni: Congrats on your first confirmed victory!

Albrecht: Enjoyed your reports and the atmospheric way you write. 

Maeran: Super update - loved the historical detail and dislike the thought of McCudden being treated snobishly because of his background!

Hassel: Hopefully the 'Spaniard's' embarrassment will work out for the advantage of his whole escadrille as he seeks to prove his worth!

Trustworthykebab: Hope school goes well!

___________

Flight Lieutenant Theodore Aloysius Andrews (AKA 'Runt)

RNAS-1 St. Pol-sur-Mer

Missions flown: 25

B.E.2c Hours: 37

Claims confirmed:2

Claims Unconfirmed:1

26-31 July 1915

Climbing out over the Channel - Blighty lies just beyond the early morning mist

The pace on the squadron has picked up over the last week of July. We have flown every day and once or twice both morning and evening patrols.  It's been pretty exhausting, if I'm honest, on account of Cleaver the C.O. who has wanted us on the airfield ready to go at 4 am most days - which is bally early in you ask me. 

On those days I can see the advantages of Davies' silences. Early in the morning no one wants a fuss, as my father used to quote with regularity,  "He that blesseth his friend with a loud voice, rising early in the morning, it shall be counted a curse to him." It's somewhere in the Bible or Shakespeare, I think, but he quoted it often enough to me as a boy that it's imprinted itself on my thinking. There's been some comings and goings in our squadron too. A couple of chaps have transferred out (There's talk of another RNAS squadron being formed) and we've had some new arrivals.  Jefferson (The singer and mess piano player) who was my first observer has been attached to one such.  Redford Mulock, a Canadian chap we all have taken to calling Red. He and Jefferson fill the morning air with their singing and their ofttimes bawdy songs.  So it looks like I'm with Davies full time. Not that I'm complaining, he's got two good eyes and a quiet, deep temperament and I think that means a lot. 

He reminds me somewhat of the Harpooner in Moby Dick, a childhood favourite of mine. While sailors on the whaleboat curse and battle fiercely the foaming, crashing sea, he remains silent and watchful.  The sailors labour with oars, shouting over the din of the howling wind and raging demonic depths - while he is languid, quiet and poised, waiting and watchful.  I remember this sentence from the book, and it sums up Davies, "To ensure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the harpooners of this world must start to their feet out of idleness, and not from out of toil." That's good old Davies, through and through.  Though I am no Captain Ahab to be sure - far too young. 

These early mornings have one distinct advantage - the first hour of flying is spectacular- one might even hazard, magical.

Up before the lark

We are not the only ones upping our flying hours. The Germans too have been more active over the last few days.  At a distance, I've spotted a number of their aircraft.  Much too far away to excite any interest from our flight leader, though I'm chomping at the bit. My chance came on the last day of July. Another early morning patrol over Passchendaele.  We were up before the lark, or the Hun (for that matter) and spotted two Aviatiks flying West as we were flying NNW over Hunland.  We were a tad over 10,000 feet, while they were in formation below us at 8000 feet.  I tried to signal Mulock, who was flight leader, but either his singing was too loud or he was lost in the magic of the day, either way, I couldn't rouse him.  As the planes slid beneath me, I turned with them, cut the throttle and stalked them. The sun was not very high so it was easy to keep it behind me and follow them - unseen.  As they crossed onto our side they changed course, flying northwest towards Furnes and Dunkirk.  I waited until they were a good way into our side and then dropped on them like an osprey.   At once they began to head east, all thoughts of patrol gone. It took about 12 minutes, but with some steady flying and Davies' shooting, we shot one down.  The Aviatik began streaming smoke at about 5000 feet, nosed down and crashed to earth just north of the ruins of Passchendaele.   We watched their dive and circled above, with that familiar feeling of pride, and horror at what we have become.  Again I prayed for the families, sweethearts and friends.  I'm not a murderer, I think, but a sailor at war.

I had dropped to about 3500 feet, which is far too low over Hunland - the anti-aircraft battery started as we turned west hammering the air around us with ugly puffs of death and twisted metal.  We had strayed far too close to a German Observation balloon - and they weren't happy.  Maybe they don't consider it sporting to attack unarmed German planes or they just didn't like the colour of our hair.  But they let us have it with gusto. I put the nose up as high as I dared, and attempted to gain some height - the wind, though not strong was against us and we hung motionless in the air as 'Archie' pounded us.  We took a very near miss to the fore of our craft. Fuel, oil and coolant were everywhere, streaming behind us, coating our faces. The engine groaned and shook, cluttered and spluttered angrily. I pointed the nose down and attempted to fly to safety, due west, at speed.  The engine held ... just.

We cleared the brown scared ground that marks the lines and I gently put our B.E.2 down. As we came to a stop the oddest thing happened. For the very first time I heard Davies's laugh.  Not quietly, but uproariously, deep belly laughs teeth sowing white amidst his oily face, his eyes creased up with mirth. Our aircraft was not in such good heart.  She had held me since that day in May when I first climbed in her at Gosport.  I was familiar with all her ways, her quirks and foibles.  Looking at her now - I couldn't imagine she would ever fly again and it seemed a miracle we had got as far as we did. Looking up in another prayer, this time of thanksgiving, I saw B flight who had circled back to Passchendaele and had spotted our battle and proud demise. They flew overhead I swear I heard singing ... "Daisy Daisy Give me your answer do ..."

Later, on stepping off the tender back at St. Pol-Sur-Mer, the C.O., his proud red face glowing in the setting sun grabbed me by the arm.  "Andrew's your victory was confirmed before you arrived - good show! ... And your papers came through this morning, you are prompt to Flight Lieutenant with immediate effect!" 

I limped to the mess an older, quieter man.

To ensure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the harpooners of this world must start to their feet out of idleness, and not from out of toil.

04:30hrs 31st July 1915

Welcome Albrecht! I look forward to your adventures!  Great work with the picture of Jean Hierott.

Peroni I hope you guys have behaved yourselves on leave!

Looking forward to the rest of the stories!

14-25 July

Haven't seen any enemy aircraft at all over the last few days.  I think we have scared the blighters off.  We have been involved in a number of recon patrols.  Spotting troop movements and flying over Hun airfields to find out what the Devil they are up to.  I've heard rumours of german single-wing scouts that are apparently very dangerous - but haven't seen one. Methinks that Davies and I will give it a jolly fright if it comes near us.  Guns or no guns!

One of my photos

The dawn patrols are eye-wateringly early but the feeling of us all lined up and raring to go is a feeling of pure exhalation.  While some chaps I went to school with are having a terrible war and families around the world grieve I must say I am having the time of my life.

0445hr the sun is barely cresting the front and we are lined up ready to go!

Salute!

9 hours ago, Paroni1 said:

I had no success add a own photo...

I can help you add a photo ... next pilot (if there is one) let me have your photo and I'll sort it out for you.  We cant do it mid-career I'm afraid.

take care!

15 hours ago, Raine said:

Mr Osborne fired six rounds at it from his Lee-Enfield before the Hun dived away to the east. We do not believe he was seriously damaged although mental distress is a definite possibility.

If your crate is going to continue being called Mr Osbourne's plane (tugs forelock in deference) he bally well need to learn how to shoot.  Brilliant chapter Rain! I love the details and touches.  Hopefully not long until the RFC get Lewis guns in their BE2cs.  

15 hours ago, Raine said:

Where did you go to grammar school?

Chesham Grammer School ...

Looking forward to the next chapter!

Paroni Armand and Jean are doing a good job escorting and driving off the enemy!

Maeran sorry the riverside idyll had to come to an end.

_________________

The good weather over Flanders Fields have come to an abrupt end, clouds started to gather.  No more so than when my downed Aviatiks was denied to me. 

"Sorry, Andrew's the Artillery chaps that captured them have taken full credit. " I was fuming! "... You'll just have to get another and make sure we are round this time to witness it."

It got worse. I had a phone call from my father the same day (He is Station Commander at RNAS Eastchurch and close friends with the First Sea Lord and carries a fair bit of clout). 

"Why the blazes are you not in Manston! I promised your mother that I'd keep you near me.  From what I hear you're acting the bally goat"   He carried on without even taking a breath, "There are rumours going around that you have adopted that silly little saying "attack everything!" - it has to stop!  Understand!!" I thought he'd stopped and was about to speak when the old volcano erupted again.

"I've also heard you've looped your BE2. What the blazes!!!!!  IT ENDS NOW."  With that, the call ended - reasonable chap my old man.  Thankfully none of the chaps knows anything about my high ranking father, and I want to keep it that way.

6-10 July were fairly standard stuff.  Recon over Marne, some long patrols on both sides of the lines and a trip on coastal patrol to Zeebrugge.  I was given a 48-hour pass and enjoyed with Davies a very enjoyable trip to Paris.  Though Davies remains a silent odd fish if I'm completely frank.

On the 13th I was down for the afternoon patrol when at lunchtime two cheeky swine appeared over the airfield again.  We scrambled quickly! I was leading B fight for only the second time, the first being at the end of June.  This time I dismissed circling above our base as a foolish waste of time and headed due east climbing at 50 knots the whole way following what I suspected was the Hun's line of retreat.  At 8000ft I doubled back, west, to St. Pol-sur-Mer and sure enough, the Hun were indeed returning to their lines.  We were on a perfect intercept course for them.  All the advantages were ours!  We dived on them causing them to separate. Davies and I stuck with one like glue.

We dived and split the pair

Davies really has got his eye in

Davies' shooting is first class and after about 120 rounds from the Lewis the engine was seized and the pilot was slumped over in the cockpit.  The EA started a steep descent which turned into a nose dive crashing then exploding into flames in a field on the western outskirts of Nieuport.  It was both a joyous and strangely sobering moment. I think at that moment I realised what so many men had realised before - war isn't just some game.  I said a prayer for the pilot and observers families and flew west to St Pol-sur-Mer.

I said a quiet prayer for families who would no doubt grieve very soon

"No doubt about that one Andrew's, not only did half the squadron witness that, but most of Nieuport too!  Capital, old fruit, CAPITAL!"  The CO slapped me on the back as I stepped off the wing.  He nearly knocked me flying. I'm not quite so stable without my stick.

Within a few hours, the claim was confirmed by a number of witnesses.  First confirmed victory!!

11 hours ago, Maeran said:

Le Mesurier gave a rude gesture and the pilot returned the salute in kind.
“Well!” Edward thought as they turned for home. “That went awfully nice.”

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!

6 minutes ago, Paroni1 said:

We have suffered a great loss:Feldwebel  von Tabbert and Leutnant Steeger died when their Aviatik crashed to the woods North of Verdun.

it is not yet clear whether the collision was caused by damage done by the enemy or was it due to the inexperience of the pilot.

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!"

12 hours ago, Raine said:

I found my calling as a pilot quite by accident. My parents, having failed as farmers, acquired a toyshop in the lovely market village of Tring in Hertfordshire,

Great opening chapter Raine! I grew up near Tring RL ... and was at a grammar school close by - small world.

Loving all the reports!

Seb

Hi Chaps,

Nice reading the reports ...

epower - Apologies for getting the pictures wrong!!

Trustworthykebab - I hope all is sorted for you soon mate!

Carrick58 - Nice pics

Paroni1 - I love Karl's Model - nice work.

June 2-June 10

Very quiet over the front for our Squadron.  We have flown each day and I have clocked in just over 10hours of flight. Jefferson continues to keep me entertained with his singing.  "Teddy Bear's Picnic" and "24 Ginger Headed Sailors" are among my favourites.  While "Uncle Harry's a missionary now" made me laugh so much I nearly stalled the crate!

"Uncle Harry's a missionary now"

It's been pretty grim weather for June.  We've flown as far south as Lille and Sausage-side as far as Zeebrugge.  Attracted a lot of Archie but no damage likewise so far so good for the whole squadron.  I've seen the enemy but once so far, about 3000feet about our airfield. Three damned cheeky twin seaters over our airfield.  Once they saw us scramble they made east at speed.  We didn't see them again once airborne.  I've taken to carrying some grenades in the cockpit with me, as well as a rifle.  Once over the german lines, I drop em'. Hope I put the fear of God into them.

Time for tea and a bun ... followed by a hot bath.

The mess is a good place to be ... Jefferson can play Keys too! while the Boss loves nothing more than a few drinks followed by mess rugby.  We are in high spirits!