Albrecht_Kaseltzer

When your pilot dies, I'd like to have the option to continue playing as one of the computer-generated wingmen currently assigned to your dead pilot's squadron. That way, you benefit more from helping build up the records of the AI-generated squad mates, and you get that immersive effect of having one pilot pass the baton on to the next pilot.

Sous Lieutenant Jean-Fidele Hierrot on leave, Part 4: February 29, 1916 "Look, Monique, I haven't been stationed up here very long but the stories are already getting around - it's a good thing nobody knows we're related." "Why do you think I care what anybody says about me?" "It's not that..." "Then what is it?" "Look, I know why you're doing what you're doing." "Oh, let me guess, because I like the attention. Because I like having a bunch of men chase after me." "No - no - " "I'll have you know, every gift any man in a uniform ever gave me, I sold off every single piece as soon as I could - " "I know - " " - so I could send the money to you. To your mother." "Monique - " " - so a little gratitude would go a long way right now, because I've had it up to here with all the judgment and the gossip!" "Monique." "What?" "I know." Jean-Fidele was trembling, holding back tears. "I know. You have the whole airfield saying horrible things about you, and it's because you've put yourself on the line for the family. What I'm saying is, you shouldn't have to. And you don't have to." "It's what anybody would do." "And you probably shouldn't." "But Jean, it's your mother." "I've seen her. She's stashed away in a wine cellar somewhere in Alphonse's pad in Le Havre." "Oui, I know she's staying with your godfather. But she can't stay there forever, and she'll have to pay for herself somewhere somehow. That's the way it's been ever since your brother signed up for the army! The money has to come from somewhere!" "Monique - if you keep sending her money, she's just going to drink it all away." Jean-Fidele's cousin was stunned. "...It's that bad, you say." "Yes. So you can stop picking up gifts and selling them off - I mean, unless you want to - " "Want? Ha!" " - and I also have to say, ever since that one time you made the money drop over at the airfield, the British airmen saw us together. One of their lieutenants, Theodore Andrews, has been giving me the evil eye ever since." Monique let out a sigh. "I've always felt so bad for him." "What do you mean?" "He deserved better. I couldn't keep seeing him, of course." "...because you couldn't use him like anybody else." "Of course not." "Maybe now's your chance to let him know." "I don't know. I don't think so. I hope so. It's hard to say - he's gotten so upset, and I can't blame him." "Well, you know what they say - time heals all wounds. Just give him a few days, maybe a week or two, try talking some Latin at him. I'm sure he'll understand." "Of course. I'll just wait. Hopefully his Latin has gotten better." "That's the spirit!"

Sous Lieutenant Jean-Fidele Hierrot on leave, part 3: late February 1916 "Petit Sous! So good to see you!" Aldric had always been a more introverted fellow, but exuded a soft, natural warmth in the company of his not-so-old war buddy. "Thank you, Aldric. It feels like a lifetime ago." "Does it? I wouldn't know. Ha, each day just feels like the same - one day after the other." "I mean, same here. But one day after the other has a way of changing you." Aldric shared how his duties with Escadrille C.4 were about to expand: how he and his pilot soon will be able to carry out proper reconnaissance and artillery spotting missions to gather intel and preserve the data via notes, photography or radio telegraphy; how air drops too have been implemented and at times he has to drop his intel off at HQ in a weighted bag at 100m or lower - which, needless to say, can be a harrowing experience for even seasoned pilots given the ever present flak and MG fire around the front lines. "Now we're fighting recon wars!" Later on, as Aldric was showing Jean-Fidele the Caudron two-seater in which he presently served as an observer, Aldric asked "So how about you? What's life like up in Dunkirk?" Jean-Fidele spilled out everything going on with his mother, his godfather, with Therese..."I look back at everything I knew before the war, and you know what? There's nothing left for me there." "I know what you mean." Jean-Fidele knew immediately what Aldric was talking about - his hometown was in Douai, presently occupied by Les Boches. "I guess we're all we have." "God help us, Petit Sous." "Listen, Aldric, there's one thing I need to ask of you." "Oh?" "I have a letter I wrote a few days ago, and I don't know what to do with it. I don't know if I ever will. I want you to have it." "For me?" "For you to decide what to do with. When something - if something happens to me, I want you to decide what to do with this letter." Jean-Fidele handed a full envelope to Aldric. It was addressed to Therese. *** Jean-Fidele's last few days on leave were spent back in the Dunkirk region, not too far from his squadron's airfield at St. Pol-sur-Mer. His uncle and his aunt (his mother's sister) still ran a charming coffee shop, Le P'tit Dupont, and he had to drop by to tend to some unfinished business with his cousin Monique. TO BE CONTINUED

Jean-Fidele Hierrot On Leave, Part 2: Late January/Early February 1916 Jean-Fidele made his way from Le Havre to nearby Rouen to see one other person he'd intended to visit: Therese Sovremonte. Another long-time friend of the Hierrot family from their pre-war Parisian days, she was currently working as a nurse at one of the many military hospitals in the area. Their first meeting was purely pragmatic. They'd originally arranged to meet outside the hospital a couple days later after Therese's shift, but Jean-Fidele's sudden change of plans had him on site three days early. He'd set foot on the premises and was looking around for his friend until he caught her by surprise in a hallway. "Jean! What are you doing here? Did I get the time wrong? I thought we weren't going to meet for a few more hours! I am so sorry!" "No no no, it's not like that, you didn't forget anything. I'm just a bit...uh...you know, change of plans." "Is everything alright?" "Better question: is anything alright?" "What's going on?" "Listen: I can tell you more later. But for right now, I need a place to stay. You know anybody? You know anybody who knows anybody?" "I'll see what I can do..." By the end of the day, Jean-Fidele had gotten set up in a room with Therese's cousin Victor, a taciturn factory foreman. Therese herself stopped by in the evening after her shift, at which point Jean-Fidele revealed all. "The way things are going, she's going to drink herself to death." "And it sounds like Alphonse's motives are a bit on the impure side." "Oh, I don't even care about all that. They can do as they like. You know, two days ago, before I knew how she was doing, I think I would have actually been happy about it. But just...she's not well, and I can't tell if he even cares. And he blows up at me for asking." *** As a pair, Therese and Jean-Fidele became a common sight around town; these couple weeks were the closest thing to normalcy that Jean-Fidele had experienced since the start of the war. Inside a local cafe, a visibly nervous Therese brought forth a question that she wanted to pose as innocently as possible. "You know, Jean, I could ask my parents about letting you stay with us for a time - I know it's a lot of back-and-forth from here back to Victor's." Jean-Fidele was tempted. "I mean, I'd love that..." "Great! I can talk to them later today, and we can make some space for you - if nothing else, at least we have a couch..." "No, Therese, no no no." "What do you mean?" "I'm about to leave town." "But I thought you had until the end of the month." "I do, but I have somebody I need to see." "And who might that be?" "It's not like that. You see, I'd promised my old flightmate Aldric that I'd come see him again if I ever got the chance. He was my observer back at the start of it all, took me under his wing. He's the closest I have to a brother anymore." A momentary flash of jealousy in Therese's eyes softened into sympathy. "I understand. Jean, it's good of you to do that, to go see him. It's not a problem. Maybe you can stay with us next time you're on leave?" Jean-Fidele took a deep breath. The next few sentences would be some of the most important in his life. "I can't have you do that, Therese." "But I want to!" "Wanting isn't everything." "Jean - I thought - " "Listen. I don't expect to come out of this alive. I can't promise you I'll ever come back, and I can't have you waiting for me in the meantime." "I'm stronger than you think, Jean. Just give me the chance. I'll do that for you. That's what people do when they love each other." Jean-Fidele was silent. "...Right?" "Therese..." "Yes, Jean?" "I don't love you." Jean-Fidele went over that moment over and over again over the next 24 hours, on the way to the Pierrefonds airfield. He felt bad about lying to Therese, but in his mind, he had to do it. He wasn't going to be like his godfather Alphonse, taking advantage of his loved one's weakness with childish apathy. He wasn't going to have Therese holding on to a ghost in the making. TO BE CONTINUED

Sous Lieutenant Jean-Fidele Hierrot: on leave, part 1 (late January 1916) Jean-Fidele took the train to Le Havre, with his Oncle Alphonse picking him up from the station late that night. A relatively successful businessman, Alphonse had long owned multiple properties in France and Algiers, and fled here to the coast to get away from the frontlines. Jean-Fidele was able to find Alphonse by following the sound of a very eager "Well hello there, my boy!" bellowing out from an Hispano-Suiza 15T Alfonso XIII - Alphonse was very quick to hop on the automotive bandwagon - and sure enough, there was Alphonse Gellée in all his stout, dapper, gregarious glory, waving from the driver's seat. "You know, you could probably sell that thing right now for enough money to last most people through the decade, right?" Alphonse just laughed. "Oh, mon fils, the war has made you turn rather austere now, hasn't it?" "I mean, maybe, but don't you think...this thing, out in the middle of the night...it's a bit much, no?" "Indeed, it's far too much! That's the point!" "It feels like we're asking to get robbed or something." "You go up in the sky every day to face men with guns, and you want to talk to me about living dangerously? Jean-Fidele, I'll have you remember my grand-mère and her family were all born in slavery - they could not have nice things or enjoy the good life. So the responsibility of the good life must fall upon me - and now, I shall share that burden with you." "How noble." *** Alphonse's home looked like the sort of building that was better suited to serve as a pub or tavern or even a library, sprawled out along the edge of Le Havre's city center. A grove of trees faced the windows on one side, a far cry from the site of military hospitals facing the other. Jean-Fidele was less concerned with Oncle Alphonse's house, though, and more concerned with what was inside it: his mother, whom Alphonse had taken on as a guest shortly after Jean-Fidele joined L'Aéronautique Militaire last summer. As a long-time friend of the Hierrot family - even business partners with Jean-Fidele's father back in Algiers - Alphonse extended a gracious invitation for Adélaïde to have a little buffer away from the frontline herself. The woman Jean-Fidele discovered in Alphonse's guest room was but a ghost of the mother he left behind to enlist. There were bottles strewn on the window sill, on the floor, along the headboard of the bed - some with some wine still sitting in side, most not. Jean-Fidele found his mother sitting in a rocking chair nursing a full glass in one hand, with a newspaper in the other; she looked as though she had aged several years in the past six or seven months. Petit Sous tried to get her attention, only to realize she had fallen asleep that way. *** Early the next morning, Jean-Fidele confronted Alphonse. "Oncle?" "Yes, Jean-Fidele?" "How long has mother been like this?" "Like what? How do you mean?" "Like what? Are you serious? Like what? Aren't you paying even the slightest bit of attention?" "Jean-Fidele Alphonse Hierrot, I will not tolerate having you address me in such a manner! And you certainly shouldn't talk about your mother that way!" "She's not well, and you know it." "She's a woman who's been through a lot, who's lost a lot - she just needs a little fun, a little drink to cope with it all..." "If she'd been like this back in Algiers, we never would have made a single franc because she would have drunk up the entire vineyard herself - " Jean-Fidele paused mid-sentence, realizing the significance of Alphonse's choice of words: "a little fun..." "Never mind. I see how it is. Well, you two have your fun, I guess, and I hope nobody gets hurt." "Jean-Fidele, mons fils, who are you to deliver such a self-righteous lecture to me under my roof?" "Nobody." On that note, Jean-Fidele walked out into the street, leaving Oncle Alphonse behind. TO BE CONTINUED

A report on Jean-Fidele's time off will be forthcoming. However, I did want to note that as of 1 March 1916, he is back in active duty with Escadrille N26 in St. Pol-sur-Mer. Granted, it took him until his second mission to get rid of 6 weeks' worth of rust.

Thanks! Yeah, given that my guy has a Nieuport 10 and he's flying purely against nothing but Aviatiks, it's all just a matter of getting good at gunnery. I was shooting ~20% from July 1 through end of September; since I've been tracking over the past dozen or so missions, though, Jean-Fidele's been hitting 43% of the time with the lessons I've picked up through time and practice. If you can get anywhere near that number, it's not that hard to score some victories against a bunch of Aviatiks. And just to be clear, Enno ain't my dude - I was quoting Lederhosen's post because I was in awe of how he was able to bag 4 confirmed victories in an Aviatik. IMO that should count three times as much as any victory in a Nieuport.

I've been seeing people shoot down enemy aircraft while flying BE2's and Morane L's and Aviatiks, and honestly I am just in awe of that. I honestly have no idea how you all are able to pull that off!

My wish list is down to two items: #1). Belgian squadrons. #2). The Sopwith Dolphin and the Pfalz D.XII. I know a lot of people have their holy grail missing aircraft, normally small production types, but both of these were readily available on the Western Front in 1918. A couple two-seaters could also be cool - the Handley-Page Type O, Salmson 2A2, and Friedrichshafen G.III all come to mind - but there's a lot of ways to handle that, and I'm also guessing most of the game mileage comes from the single-seat fighters anyway.

Jean-Fidele Hierrot, January 1916 (Part II) The first thing to hit Jean-Fidele about his transfer to Escadrille N26 was the snow - snow everywhere. Not enough, though, for after hitting the ground, the thin white coating seemed to melt into a sticky brown sludge. There was no way Jean-Fidele could even take off in such weather, which was just as well: this gave him time to get acquainted with his new squadron mates. Capitaine Blaise Gallet stood out immediately - in part because Jean-Fidele arrived on what happened to be the day that Gallet was awarded his 5th confirmed victory along with the Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur. Dressed up in a stiff, formal business suit, Gallet had the fresh, stern sort of face that could pass for 20 as easily as 60. Passing up the usual formalities, Jean-Fidele was impressed with the way Gallet cut straight to a discussion of air combat tactics and maneuvers. "So I understand you're a bit of an expert in all this, right?" "I mean...Escadrille N12 had me teach how to do what we do. Not too many people died in the process." "No deaths? Oh my - how are you going to win a war if you can't kill any Germans?" "Oh, see, I wasn't counting those." "Ah, that's quite fair enough. I, too, am of the opinion that enemy lives don't matter. So you have seen a lot of dead Germans." "Yeah, rivers of blood. We used to drink the stuff when the wine ran out." Jean-Fidele thought back to the piece of Aviatik linen still in his pocket. Gallet went on to share some intel with Jean-Fidele about the German marine squadrons in the region, the dreaded Fokker scourge, and a combat maneuver he'd been developing - one where he started attacking from above, firing while swooping down, only to pull up into a near-stall, turn back and fire again. "And this stall turn, it saves time on having to turn all the way back around to get on the enemy's tail. Less time, less time to think up a counter-maneuver." "You'll have to teach me some time, Capitaine." "With pleasure." *** Apart from some brief patrols to get familiar with the area, Jean-Fidele's first real mission was a balloon-hunting expedition, in which he would accompany Capitaine Gallet and Sous Lieutenant Joseph Mara. Jean-Fidele had only limited experience attacking non-airplane targets, and this was his first time ever loading up on Le Prieur rockets. Behind German lines, Gallet gave the signal to descend upon the enemy observation balloon - but, embarrassingly for Jean-Fidele, he could not find it. He looped around, turning his head every which way, at one point even flying upside-down for a moment so he could look straight down at the ground, but he just simply could not find the damn thing! ...That is, until Capitaine set the balloon on fire for his 7th victory. And also his last. For, even though the observation balloon was down, there was still the question of exit strategy. Getting back home from behind enemy lines, surrounded by enemy antiaircraft fire, was no mean feat. Unfortunately for Gallet, enemy fire was directed straight at him, as the ground units identified him as the pilot responsible for rocketing their observation balloon out of the sky. Jean-Fidele and Joseph Maria simply slipped out of sight, out of mind, back to St. Pol-sur-Mer, having witnessed their captain's demise. Gallet was credited posthumously for his 7th confirmed victory. B Flight, reduced now to Jean-Fidele and Joseph Maria - himself an ace with 6 credited kills - intended to remain grounded until receiving further reinforcements. That decision fell to the wayside on 17 January, however, when Aviatik two-seaters were sighted heading inland from the Channel. This was it: another scramble mission, bringing back so many memories from Rosnay. Joseph demonstrated his considerable skill in this pursuit; he'd been reputed to show good control of his machine, and solid nerve in combat. Jean-Fidele was used to flying with flightmates who might slip a bit in a stall, or who might take forever to get to altitude. Not so with Joseph Maria, though - this was a pilot who could keep up with Jena-Fidele in pursuit of the enemy two-seaters. Jean-Fidele could tell his shot was a bit rusty: he estimated that he only got about 12 or 15 hits out of his first 47-round drum unloaded upon one of the two Aviatik C.I's. As he turned back to strike again, though, he struck the Aviatik's inline engine on the second drum and watched the two-seater crash to the ground. That left Jean-Fidele with precisely 47 rounds with which to take down the second Aviatik - one which Joseph had given his best, but had evidently run out of ammunition and was now turning back home. Jean-Fidele figured he had one pass, maybe two at most, to take this two-seater down before it returned back to German lines with untold amounts of new intel. From about 40 yards, Jean-Fidele struck, releasing all 47 rounds in two carefully directed bursts well within the propeller's arc. This felt like Jean-Fidele's best work all day - at least 20 hits out of that drum, he figured. Yet the two-seater kept going, regardless of all the new-found bullet holes. Jean-Fidele had failed. Except...maybe not. As Jean-Fidele was turning away, he looked back one last time and noticed the Aviatik's propeller had stopped. The engine was dead. His opponent was going to try to glide back home - and given the altitude, he might be just close enough to pull it off. While Jean-Fidele didn't have any bullets, he did have one thing left: his Nieuport 10. To stop the Aviatik from making it back over the frontline, Jean-Fidele began repeatedly flying directly towards the face of the enemy, threatening a collision. If he could force the pilot to change course, he could spoil any chance of escape. And much to Jean-Fidele's surprise - it worked! After a couple swooping dives straight at the pilot's face, the Aviatik diverted course and Jean-Fidele maintained pursuit over a forest. The two-seater cleared the edge of the woods before making a shallow crash within sight of two Allied observation balloons - witnesses for Jean-Fidele's 15th confirmed victory. Jean-Fidele was notified of the confirmation the next day, as he was preparing to go on leave. END-OF-MONTH STATS, JANUARY 1916 Missions: 97 Flight Hours: 117.08 Confirmed Victories: 15

Jean-Fidele Hierrot, January 1916 (Part I) Jean-Fidele received confirmation of his transfer to Escadrille N26 shortly after New Year's Day, taking him from Rosnay all the way up to the coast along the English Channel. He still had another week or so before the transfer, however, and Bernie was very very adamant that he was still Jean-Fidele's commanding officer for now! (Not that Jean-Fidele needed any reminding, much less persuasion - the chain of commanding awaiting him in N26 seemed a little out of its mind). At the same time, it was a poorly-kept secret that Jean-Fidele had lied about his age - Bernie and Navarre had both guessed that Jean-Fidele was actually 17, not 19, so much was made of the fact that Jean-Fidele's birthday was coming up on 6 January. Jean-Fidele woke up that morning with the number "20" traced over his forehead in soot, like an Ash Wednesday cross, and he immediately got the joke - though for Jean-Fidele, it seemed like a bit much to have the same number traced on the fuselage of his Nieuport scout as well. Navarre called out to Jean-Fidele as Flight B was trudging onto the field for morning preparations. "Happy 20th, Petit Sous," he greeted, with a knowing wink. "Oh, yes, very happy! Thank you very much!" Bernie popped up. "Got a gift for you, Mr. Birthday Man." Jean-Fidele took that as an ominous sign. "You're referring to the penitential ashes?" "Oh no, that's just to make up for the fact you won't be here with us for this paschal season. No, no, no, my sacrificial lamb, we got you a rail yard for your birthday." "...That's actually a bit of a relief." "No ribbon or bow, though." "Eh, easier to unwrap that way!" It made sense to Jean-Fidele why this mission would get assigned to B Flight, given how dangerous it can be to strike from so low over enemy territory. Navarre joked that Bernie probably figured if he couldn't have Jean-Fidele in his squadron anymore, then nobody could - "Sir, you realize characters who show such a vengeful streak tend to be the villains, right?" Frederic Quellenec chimed in. "Fred..." "Yes? What is it?" Navarre just shook his head in disbelief. "Never mind. Let's just go." By the time B Flight reached the German railyard, the rhythmic POW-POW-POW of antiaircraft fire gave Jean-Fidele a deep sinking feeling: this was the most danger he'd encountered since the time his bottom wing ripped off, and that was the most danger he'd faced since the time he told his mother that he was enlisting in the military. Jean-Fidele could still hear her voice in his head, that ringing cry of "I'll kill you before les Boches ever get the chance!" On second thought, in contrast to that, Jean-Fidele felt relatively safe and secure here behind enemy lines. Along with Navarre & Quellenc, he went ahead and swooped down over the railyard, taking potshots at whatever he could find while making looping rollercoaster-type maneuvers to avoid getting hit. Sure, all three men returned to Rosnay with fuselages riddled by dozens of bullet holes, but they returned to Rosnay - and left a few bullet holes of their own in some enemy rail cars. After returning to the airfield, Jean-Fidele finished his "20th" birthday taking a train up north to complete his transfer to Escadrille N26 in St. Pol-sur-Mer. He was seen off by Bernie and Navarre, who handed him a piece of fabric. "...A washcloth?" "Yeah, to wipe your face. Gotta look all nice and respectable for the ladies up north," Navarre cracked. "Adjutant - " Bernie cut in. "Oh, sorry Bernie - hey, you've hit puberty, right, Petit Sous?" "I'm sure the Sous Lieutenant will let us know about any young ladies he's court should he want to do so." "Oh yeah, you know...courting. Lots and lots of it." "We should make you a spy and have you seduce the Kaiser's wife, see what information we get out of her!" "I think what Jean-Marie [de Navarre] is trying to say is that this fabric comes from the fuselage of a wrecked German two-seater - the Aviatik you brought down for your first confirmed victory." Jean-Fidele accepted the gift, but stuffed it in his pocket along with a series of mixed emotions: was this revenge for the death of his brother Etienne - or was this a relic from the moment when he became a killer himself? This was a question Jean-Fidele had avoided for months, but having this relic right in front of him - the serial number from that Aviatik right there in his fingers - proved such running away to be utterly futile.

SLt Jean-Fidele Hierrot: December 1915, Part II Jean-Fidele wrote out the following for his final end-of-month report with Escadrille N12: Bernie and Jean-Fidele agreed that hereafter, N26 would not descend below 3,000 metres over German lines. The squadron took the next day off to pay tribute to Callinet, who had been Bernie's second-in-command following a brief stint as interim squadron leader. Jean-Fidele was particularly upset: "I owe so much to you, mon frère." It was from Callinet, after all, whom Jean-Fidele learned the elements of combat which had changed his life so drastically over the past two-and-a-half months. The view from de Sevin's cockpit, 9 December 1915 Victory number fourteen for Jean-Fidele Hierrot, 13 December 1915. Jean-Fidele witnesses Viallet's death, 15 December 1915. Jean-Fidele did not include this in his report, but he contemplated how he would have pursued that last Aviatik a month ago - but now, such an action was unthinkable. He had a responsibility to keep himself in one piece, and he had to put forth a positive example for the men learning from him. The newer, leaner B Flight before combat, 19 December 1915 END OF MONTH STATS Missions: 89 Flight Hours: 103.7 Confirmed Victories: 14

(Out of character: that meeting was inspired by Jean-Fidele getting "promoted" to Sous Lieutenant in game, finally matching his DiD rank).