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Authors: Griiff Hosker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

1918 We will remember them (12 page)

BOOK: 1918 We will remember them
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Bates took care of the bags and found us a carriage on the boat train while I said goodbye to Beattie. “I will get a message to you when my leave is to take place and John will make the arrangements for mum and dad.  I am sorry that all the rest will be up to you.”

“Oh you are a silly Billy! That is no hardship.  I shall see Mary and she is a whizz at such things.  She did a marvellous job of her own wedding.” She kissed me. “You concentrate on staying safe! And I will concentrate on becoming Mrs Bill Harsker.”

Chapter 11

The reality we returned to was that the squadron had taken casualties. Lieutenant Thomson and his gunner had gone west while Lieutenants Carpenter and Duffy had both been wounded.  They would have a leave with bandages to mark them as warriors. Randolph returned and Archie left leaving me in command for a week. I told Gordy about the wedding and he was delighted telling me that he would write to Mary immediately. My young pilots returned brimming with confidence but Owen Davies still refused to smile.  The mess orderlies were in despair- he had no mess bill.  When we paid our mess bills we normally included a tip. It ensured us prompt service and augmented the pay of the orderlies. A teetotaller from the Chapel did not please them.

Archie had left us a report of where the problems had occurred.  The casualties had all come three days after the patrols had started.  I knew why as soon as I read them.

“They were too predictable. They flew the same patterns at the same time for three consecutive days.  Fritz is not stupid. I intend to mix it up.” I began to fill my pipe. “Headquarters just want us to stop the Hun coming over our lines?”

“As far as I can see, yes.”

I pushed my tobacco pouch over to Randolph as I lit mine.  The aromatic smell of the new mix filled the room. “Then I think we use the box system Freddie and I used.  That way Gordy and I can keep in touch with one another while covering a large part of the front.”

He filled his pipe and lit it.  “This is damned good stuff.  You must tell me where you get it from.  Yes, well, you are in command, old boy.” He tapped a manila envelope. “Things will get hot around the middle of November though.  It looks like we are going in with the artillery and the tanks. It seems some Johnny at Headquarters thinks it might work. Instead of a barrage which warns them we are coming they want a creeping barrage ahead of the tanks.  We keep the artillery informed about the tanks progress and we use ground attack to keep the Hun’s heads down. It might work.”

“Our Bert is in the Tank Corps now.”

“Oh, sorry about that.  I didn’t know.  Still they are supposed to be a great invention and they are being used in greater numbers than ever before in this little shindig. He should be safer in one of those rather than burrowing under the ground.”

“They only travel at four miles an hour and you can bet that the Germans have been working out how to destroy them.  They were used on the Somme, remember?”

“If we can make a breakthrough…”

“I suppose you are right. Now listen, Randolph, this has nothing to do with operations but I intend to marry Beattie on my next leave.”

He shook my hand, “Well done old chap.”

“The thing is I need as much notice as I can and I need to be able to tell Beattie.  What do you suggest?”

“Well Archie will know a fortnight before the leave starts when it will be.  He normally tells you chaps a week before in case anything comes up but I daresay he could make an exception. I have a chum at Headquarters.  He could send a message to that hospital she works at.  How about that?”

“You are a brick.  Come on let’s go to the mess and celebrate.”

It was a party atmosphere that night.  I couldn’t help noticing how much Jack, George and Roger had grown over the last month.  They were all different men now.  I just prayed that they would survive to the end of this war… whenever that day came.

Gordy was happy with my plan and we headed to Flesquières flying in two lines with the Camels above the Bristols.  Once we reached our area then Gordy flew to the south east while we flew to the north west.  After two miles we turned around.  It meant we could keep an eye on each other and minimise the chance of being jumped. I would devise a different plan for the next day. We saw the German aeroplanes but they were close to Noyelles and they did not attempt to close with us. They flew in five flights of five stacked one above the other.  The flight they used was a north to south one. We left each other alone but I knew that they would report on how we flew.

There were just three of us in the office as we mulled over the patrol.  “What do you think Gordy? Should we shake a stick at these hornets?”

“Leave well alone I say.  In a couple of week’s time we are going to need every bus we can get.”

“I agree.  Tomorrow, though, we will fly in one line.  Your lads can be at the back.  The rear gunners will come in handy. Let’s see what they make of that.  I did notice that they outnumbered us. They may decide to chance their arm.  You know they have good intelligence.  I am betting they know an attack is in the offing. Some Hun at staff will be demanding that they come and see our dispositions so we will keep a sharp eye out for them.”

We left half an hour later than the previous day.  If the Germans were as efficient as they usually were then they would be there ready to watch us and I wanted them wasting fuel if they did. If they decided to venture over in our absence we would still arrive in time to attack them.

I took us in higher than the previous day. It was irritating to have to wait for the Bristols to catch us up.  We had a much faster rate of climb. The Germans were in position but this time they were venturing across No Man’s Land.

“German formations approaching the British lines. Over.”

My message would not help anyone unless they telephoned the trenches to warn them. In my experience the presence of RFC aeroplanes normally alerted the ground troops to danger anyway. We were slightly higher than the Germans and I led my long line of aeroplanes towards the amalgamation of Fokkers and Albatros.  I saw that the squadron had a number of different types.  There was the D III as well as a couple of D. IV.  There was even an old DII which was struggling to keep formation.

As soon as they spotted us the first wave banked to attack. I felt more confident facing such an eclectic collection of fighters.  I was faster and more manoeuvrable than all of them and I had twice the guns of half of them. The hard part would be facing the initial firestorm before I was through. The Camels and Bristols behind me were stacked up a little and when I dived they would each have a clear shot.  By the time the Bristols came through their rear gunners would be able to sweep both sides. That was the theory.  It never worked out that way in practice.

The older aeroplanes might have recognised the horse painted on my cockpit; I don’t know.  But the pilots in the first wave all fired too soon and too inaccurately. Bullets zinged around my bus but none came close. I held my fire.  I knew, myself, how nerve wracking it is to have an enemy come at you with silent guns.  It exacerbated the tension. I waited until they were less than a hundred yards away. By that time the first aeroplane’s gun was hitting my bus but then the pilot pulled up his nose.  I gave a short burst as his nose filled my sights. I actually saw pieces of metal flying off as my twin Vickers shredded his propeller and then ripped into the engine cowling. It fell sideways causing the next aeroplane to have to veer to port in order to avoid a collision.

There was confusion in the German formation.  As the Fokker D III fell to its death I saw that the second rank was made up of the Albatros D III.  They all had a twin Spandau but they were almost twenty miles an hour slower than I was. I opened fire at two hundred yards and then dived so that the Camels behind me could have a shot at the green Albatros with the wavy red line as it tried to adjust its flight to attack me.  I was so quick that I was gone before he could fire his guns. I immediately brought my nose up.  The third line was made up of the Albatros D II and Fokker D II.  These only had one machine and were much slower.  However, more importantly, the radiator was so high that it could obscure their view at the front. I had had a similar problem when I changed from the Gunbus to the Camel. They didn’t see me and I came up under the yellow painted Fokker. He seemed so slow after the triplanes that it appeared to be stationary. I gave a short burst as I zoomed up at a hundred and ten miles an hour. My last bullets ripped into him from less than twenty yards and I had to adjust my Camel to avoid smashing into him.  He too tumbled to earth.

I saw in my mirror that I only had my Camels with me.  Our climb had been too fast for the Bristols but the Bristols were now finishing off the front two lines of German fighters. The slower ones we now faced turned and ran. There was no order to their flight.  It was every man for himself. I took snap shots at them as they departed and was gratified with a few hits but no more were shot down. 

As we banked to return home I saw that none of our aeroplanes had been hit but there were at least six aeroplanes either burning on the ground or tumbling from the sky. The losses of the last week had been avenged.

There was an exuberant atmosphere in the mess that night.  Although we were not overly competitive my young pilots were delighted to have shot down more German aeroplanes than the rest of the squadron.  It did them no harm and I knew that their confidence would be up. More importantly was the time in the air they had spent fighting German fighters.  They might not have been the best German fighters but they had done well to sweep them so imperiously from the skies.

We must have frightened them for they never ventured across our lines for the rest of the week. From captured Germans in other sectors we discovered that our squadron was seen as a British version of the Flying Circus.  It was a compliment but I knew the dangers. They would send their best to shoot us down.

The rest of the squadron arrived back on the 19
th
of October.  They came back bubbling with excitement.  Leave did that for you. They had only been away for a week but I know that it would have felt like a month. It was a party in the mess as everyone shared the news of a fortnight spent apart.

Next day we were brought back to reality when we were ordered into the air. We would be used to spot for the artillery. While we had been on leave Freddie’s bus had been fitted with a radio so that the four flights could each go to a different sector and direct artillery fire. It was a trial of the new technology as well as an attempt to deceive the Germans. We were directing the fire to the south of the intended offensive at Cambrai. For once someone at Headquarters was actually thinking. We would find any problems with the radio communication and the Hun might move his troops to face a phantom attack which would never materialise.

We took off on the twenty first and headed for Le Catelet. The sector had been quiet and we each only had a battery of six guns to direct but it seemed a good idea to me. The batteries had been given our frequencies but to ensure that it worked Sergeant Kenny and his magicians had been sent to the batteries to assist the operators.  It had been one reason for the delay in the barrage.

“A Flight on station. Over.”

While the rest of my flight climbed above me to provide cover I flew over the German lines. I had a map in front of me with grids marked on. I had been told where they would shell first and I would direct them once I had seen the fall of shot.

The first shells all screamed over.  They were closer to each other than I would have expected but they were short of the trenches by a hundred yards.  It was just some barbed wire which had been hit.

“A Flight. One hundred yards short. Repeat one hundred yards short. Over.”

I had to admit this was faster than flashing with an Aldis lamp but it would be much easier for Ted and Gordy for they could watch the skies and just fly.  I had to do both. As I waited for the next fall of shot I glanced up to see that my umbrella was still in place. Each of the flights was sufficiently far away from each other that there would be no confusion with the fall of shot.

The next salvo was much better.  Two of the shells struck the trench and the other four straddled it. The chap from the artillery who had briefed us had told us to send back the word ‘straddle’ when that happened.

“A Flight.  Straddle.  Over!”

The next shots had five hits.

“A Flight.  On target. Over.”

This was where it would become more complicated.  I flew up and down in a small loop as I watched the fall of shot.  When a section of the trench was destroyed then it would be my call to change the target. It only took six salvoes and the trench looked like one huge shell hole.

“A Flight target destroyed. Over.”

I saw that there were command and secondary trenches just fifty yards further east. I deduced that the artillery would find it easier to hit a target further away rather than adjusting to left and right.

“A Flight.  New target.  One hundred yards east.  Over.”

I had no idea how the artillery could hit something they could not see but when the next shells came over three of them hit and three straddled.

“A Flight.  Straddle.  Over!”

It took another four salvoes to begin to destroy it but I heard the sound of the Vickers and glanced up to see my flight being attacked by ten Fokker D III.

“A Flight.  Under attack.  Aborting.  Over!”

We had been told to break off if we were in danger.  This was a trial and there was little point in risking valuable aeroplanes and pilots. I began to climb.  The Germans were after me, as the spotter.  I would not be the pigeon for these hawks. I saw that Jack Fall was leading the line well and the five aeroplanes kept a tight formation. He must have seen me climbing for he began to turn and lead the flight west.  They started to drop so that I could join them. I saw that Owen Davies’ bus had been damaged but the rest looked intact.

BOOK: 1918 We will remember them
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