1918 We will remember them (23 page)

Suddenly I felt my Camel judder.  I looked in my mirror and saw the new fighter on my tail. He had a superior dive to me and I pulled back on the stick.  I let the triplane go and I looped to get behind the new fighter.  He could not out turn me and he descended and headed east. It was over. We had met the new Fokker D.VII. The earlier ones we had fought in April had been improved.  They were a formidable fighter. The Germans had regained their advantage.

I followed smoking Camels back to Doyle Airfield. I stayed well back as I was not certain that all of them would make it.  I saw that Pearson and Herris, two of the new pilots had not made it but as I passed over the German lines I saw one pilot being marched east with his hands in the air.  At least one of the new boys might survive the war.

I left the casualties being dealt with by Doc Brennan and his staff and a rueful Sergeant Lowery looking at the damage he would have to repair. Archie had the whisky open as I entered the office. “They are a nasty fighter!”

“And they have a better rate of descent than we do.”

“Was it tough?”

“And then some, Randolph. They have a higher ceiling than we do.”

“They must have oxygen and something to keep them warm.”

“I don’t know, Bill.  Perhaps they are tougher than we are!”

Gordy and Ted came in.  “Freddie is out of action for a couple of days and the miserable Welshman too. Both copped a bullet.”

Gordy nodded his agreement.  “I have three buses that will need serious repair before we can go up again.”

“Right.  Bill how about your lads?”

“I haven’t checked yet but I think they were all down safely.”

“Then tomorrow you take up Freddie’s flight and I will go with Gordy and Ted.” He held up a piece of paper. “We have to patrol two sectors tomorrow. They are sending down another squadron, SE 5s this time.” He pointed to the west of us. “They are building them a field there.  I think that was why they put the bigger guns here. I have a feeling we are going to be at the sharp end soon.”

It was worse than we had feared.  Freddie would be grounded for a week and Owen for ten days, at least. Two of my Camels were out of action as they both needed new engines.  It would be a depleted flight I led the next day.  Poor Freddie was mortified.  “I am sorry about this, sir.” He held his bandaged arm up.  “I am sure I could fly with one hand.  You did.”

“That was a Gunbus and I was stupid. You get better Freddie I will look after your boys.  It is just Johnny and Jamie anyway.”

He frowned, “I hope Jamie sorts himself out.  We need him more than ever now.”

“I’ll have Jack chat to him. He has this ability to get on with anybody.  It was him who turned George Jenkin around.” George was now one of the most reliable pilots in the squadron.

My flight was given the task of flying over Noyon. It had been under our control some months earlier but now the Germans were doing something there and we were given the job of finding out what. The BE 2s who had been given the task of photographing it had been shot down.  We would not have to take photographs but we would need to see what was going on. As we headed east I thought I could work out what was going on. Noyon was close to the section where the French and British lines met.  Although there was close cooperation between both forces the language issue always caused a problem.

As we flew over I kept my eye to the east; I was wary of German fighters.  I had the luxury of Johnny at the rear and he was the most dependable pilot in the flight.  Jack flew behind Lieutenant Fox.  I had not told him why but I asked him to keep an eye on him. As we neared Noyon I saw German tanks.  They looked very similar to the ones that Bert had driven.  The main difference was that they had sloping armour at the front. I saw many German vehicles and they appeared to be disgorging storm troopers.  We now recognised these for what they were; the prelude to an attack.

There were no fighters in the sky and I led my flight down to strafe the troops on the ground. As we swooped towards them they took cover behind the tanks. It was too late to pull out, we were committed to the attack and we all fired. Surprisingly the fact that our bullets struck the sloping sides of the German tanks worked in our favour.  The bullets pinged and ricocheted and flew in all sorts of directions.  One lucky ricochet managed to hit an ammunition truck and it exploded in a fiery ball. We had annoyed them enough and we headed home.

I left the pilots to examine the Camels for damage while I reported to Randolph.  Archie still had the rest of the squadron out on patrol. “Something is up, Randolph. I saw tanks and storm troopers.  They have an attack planned and if I was a gambling man I would say it would be between us and the Frogs.”

“I think you might be right.  I’ll get on to John.”

I headed back to my quarters.  As I was passing Jack’s room I heard a commotion and Lieutenant Fox came hurtling out, nearly hitting me. He looked at me in horror and then ran outside.

I looked in Jack’s room and my pilot was rubbing a red jaw. “What happened, Jack?”

“I am not certain, sir.  I asked him into my room, like you said, for a chat and he chinned me when I started to ask him about home! I was just trying to get to know him.”

“I’ll have charges brought.”

Jack shook his head, “No sir. Please.  I was talking to his mates and they reckon this is girl trouble. Something went on at home. He seems a nice lad.  I wouldn’t want to get him in bother.”

“He is in bother, Jack.  No one hits one of my officers! But I will get to the bottom of this before I decide what to do.”

I left the quarters and saw one of the mechanics.  “Smith, did you see Lieutenant Fox leave here?”

He grinned, “Aye sir, he ran out as though he was a rabbit with dogs after him. He ran into yonder field.” He pointed to the east.

“Thanks.” I took out my pipe and began to fill it as I followed him. I was angry and annoyed.  The pipe and the tobacco would take the edge off my tongue. Both Freddie and Jack had asked me to go easy on the young man. I would try.

I saw a tendril of smoke coming from behind the hedgerow. I left the field by the gate, walked along the lane and entered the next field. I saw the lieutenant with his head down, smoking next to the alder tree.

I walked towards him. He saw me and threw away the cigarette.  In my mind I had decided to have him arrested if he ran. He looked as though he was contemplating running but thought better of it and stood dejectedly waiting for me to reach him. The pipe had calmed me a little. I stood and looked at him.  His head was down. I thought back to my childhood and I used the disappointed voice my father had used when he was talking to one of his sons who had done something wrong.

“It’s Jamie isn’t it?” He nodded. “Then look at me and give me a sir unless you are some sort of donkey!”

His head snapped up and he came to attention, “Yes sir, Jamie.”

“That’s better. Now before I really lose my temper, as you just did, and before I think of all the charges I could lay on you would you like to tell me what is going on?  What happened on your leave to change you?”

He looked terrified.  I remembered driving with Lord Burscough and almost hitting a deer which stared in terror at the headlights of his Singer. Fox had just such a look. The look was replaced by resignation, “It doesn’t matter anyway sir.  My life is already a mess.  It can’t get any worse.”

I nodded and puffed on my pipe.  “I can’t see the wound Fox.”

“Wound sir?”

“Yes I am thinking this must be a terrible wound you are concealing to make you sound so depressed.  I mean is it worse than Mr Holt’s eye? You didn’t know him but is it worse than the loss of the hand that Lumpy Hutton suffered?”

“No sir.  No wound.”

“And unless I am talking to a ghost then you are still alive so for the life of me I cannot see what is wrong.”

He raised his voice, “Sir, you don’t understand!”

I used my sergeant’s voice as I barked, “Then damned well tell me and do it in a polite tone or so help me God I will forget myself and give you a good hiding myself!” He suddenly began to weep. It took me aback and I changed my tone to a more conciliatory one. “There’s a girl I believe.”

“I am sorry, sir.  I shouldn’t have shouted at you.  There is no one I respect more than you.  You are the reason I joined the Corps. My dad knows you.  He drinks in your village pub and I wanted to be like you.” I nodded.  He was talking now and I didn’t want to stop him. “There is a girl.  She is lovely but her mum and dad are posh and think that a lad whose dad works on the land isn’t good enough for her.  Caroline, that’s her name, loves me but she is only nineteen, like me.  I wanted to marry her but her parents wouldn’t let her.”

“You just have to wait two years and then you can marry her.”

“I can’t wait. I mean too many lads die so young and I wanted… well we couldn’t wait.” I waited.  There was more to come. “We ran off to Gretna and we were married.  That was the first day of my leave.  We stayed in Carlisle as Mr and Mrs Fox.” He looked embarrassed.  “I didn’t want the marriage annulled so…”

“I understand. Then what is the problem.  You are married.  It is what you wanted.”

“I know, sir but when we got back to Ormskirk and told them they went off it.  Her dad is the local magistrate you see.  They wouldn’t let her leave the house and the magistrate sent for the police.”

“You didn’t hit them did you?”

“No sir, I’m not that daft. I went home and told me dad.”

“What did he say?”

“Just what you did, sir.  That I should have waited.”

“Well you are going to have to wait now.” He nodded. My pipe had gone out and I tapped the ash against the bole of the alder. “Right this is what you are going to do.  First you are going to go and apologise to Jack Fall. Then you are going to start doing your job.  You are a pilot and a damned good one according to Mr Carrick.” He started to open his mouth.  “Now shut up and listen for once! You and I have a lot in common.  I know how you were brought up and I think that this magistrate is wrong but your wife will be safe at home.  They will not mistreat her will they?” He shook his head. “Good.  Now Lady Burscough is a friend of mine. I will write her a letter and ask her to see this magistrate.  What is his name by the way?”

“Jeremiah Ramsden, sir.”

“Well she will have a word.  I am not saying it will do any good but she is a well known lady and has influence.  If that does not work then I shall go with you on your next leave and we will try to sort it out.  How’s that?”

His face brightened, “That is good of you, sir.”

“I am not certain it will do any good and I suspect that you will have to wait two years but it is a plan and is better than you going around trying to take on every pilot in the squadron.”

He grinned, “Sir.”

“Now go and apologise to Lieutenant Fall.”

As I walked back to my quarters I began to write the letter to Lady Mary in my head. I felt sorry for Fox. I understood him.  After all I had got married on the spur of the moment.  The difference was I had not gone against the wishes of anyone’s parents. I hated snobbery but I was not sure if I had the power to change anything. The world was changing but not that fast.

That evening in the mess, Jack sat next to Fox and he nodded and smiled when I entered.  All was well.  I would wait until I had my reply from Lady Mary until I spoke with Freddie. The real test would be when we were in the air again. If Fox was more reassured then his flying should show his old qualities. I knew that Freddie had confided in Johnny Holt and I asked him to give Fox the once over in the air.  Johnny nodded and said, “I’ll keep an eye on him sir… my good one!” Nothing ever got Holt down.

We were ordered to go deeper into German territory and spy upon the build up.  The French had captured some German prisoners who reported an offensive in the offing.  Headquarters had not known where that would be likely to be but our information made the southern Somme the favourite choice.  If we could find more evidence from the German rear then we could prepare for yet another offensive. As we headed east I cursed the Russians for making peace. The war might have been over but for the cursed Revolution.

We headed for the area east of la Fere. It was within ten miles of the new front line and would provide evidence of enemy preparations. We flew in a stacked formation and I told Johnny Holt to watch the skies for enemy fighters.  As soon as we crossed their front line I knew that they would be sending a message to the German Jastas.  To aid confusion we flew south east as we crossed the front line and then I headed north east. We would still be spotted by any Germans but they would waste fuel searching in the wrong area.

There was a steady trickle of grey uniforms moving along the country lanes.  They were heading west. As we flew over, they dived for cover, expecting the chatter of machine guns.  It was their lucky day; we sought bigger fish. We were ten miles from the front when we saw the tents which filled the empty fields.  Here was the army which would launch the offensive. We banked to move south where I saw tanks and vehicles too.  The only thing missing was cavalry.  That was strange because if they made a breakthrough then cavalry were the best force to exploit a gap.

As we headed west I realised that a crucial breakthrough could take the Germans to Paris.  Already being shelled an attack by Ludendorff might force the French to make peace and then Britain and Belgium would be isolated.

I glanced in my mirror and saw Jack and Johnny waggling their wings.  It meant only one thing, German fighters.  I could not see them but I knew that, in all likelihood they would be coming from the south east and that they would be higher than us.  Our field was to the north west and I gambled. Instead of rising to meet them I began to bank and to dive towards the ground. We would out run them.  We were on the limit of our fuel anyway and it was not worth risking a fight with the information we had discovered in our heads. As we reached fifty feet I waggled my wings and waved for the pilots behind me to fly on.  They waggled their wings to show they understood and, as I slowed down they overtook me until there was just Jack, Johnny and myself as the three rear Camels. 

I could see the Fokkers in my rear mirror.  There were ten triplanes and four of the new Fokkers. I signalled the other two to take station either side of me.  We were close enough for me to shout but our signals worked well and they obeyed. If I could get back without fighting I would but the moment I heard their Spandau I intended to loop and attack them head on.  The younger pilots were already half a mile ahead of me.  I was certain I could hold the enemy up long enough for them to reach the field.

Suddenly ground fire erupted.  The flight of the other Camels had alerted the soldiers and they were firing indiscriminately.  I remembered what had happened to the Red Baron.  The only way to stop them firing was to get amongst the Fokkers. I signalled for a loop and I pulled back on the stick. It was not a moment too soon for the Fokker D VII began to fire as I did so.  The other two joined me and the bullets sailed harmlessly by. Our sudden move and the fact that they, too, were hedgehopping meant we took them by surprise. As I turned the top of the loop I saw them below me and I opened fire at the Fokker triplane below me. He was trying to loop too and my bullets struck his top wing and his cockpit. I finished my loop and found that I was behind a D.VII.  He twisted and turned to avoid my bullets but the Camel could out twist anything but a triplane.

The D.VII was a tougher aeroplane than the triplane and it took a great deal of punishment.  I felt bullets striking my bus from the Germans behind.  Ahead I could see the airfield and I increased my speed to close with the D.VII and make it harder for my pursuer to shoot me and not hit his comrade. I did not have the luxury of being able to slow down for my landing. The German had to pull up suddenly when the machine guns and artillery which ringed the field began to fire at him. The field was thankfully empty and I landed diagonally to give myself the maximum grass upon which to land.

Johnny and Jack had not attempted my foolhardy landing but they had split left and right to allow the gunners to pepper the air and the Germans with their fire. They peeled away with at least three smoking aeroplanes and headed east. Johnny and Jack were able to land more sedately than I did. My landing had taken me so far away that they were out of their Camels before I had taxied over to the rest of the aeroplanes.

“Interesting landing, sir!”

“I know Johnny.  I hoped that the gunners could get a couple of them.”

He nodded, “It looks like there is a push sir and it is coming in this direction.”

“I know.  I shall tell the Captain.  Well done you two. I hope you suffered no damage.”

“No sir.  Just a couple of holes in the wings.  Nothing that can’t be repaired.”

Our news was confirmed by other spotters and we were ready on the twenty seventh of May when the Germans attacked between Soissons and Rheims.  The French bore the brunt to this attack along with six resting divisions.  The whole front collapsed almost overnight and the Germans made the Marne River.  Paris was now a possibility.

We spent every day from the twenty seventh until the advance stopped on the eleventh of June in the air.  We were fighting for our lives. In all that time we found ourselves fighting not German aeroplanes but German ground troops as we were used as aerial artillery. After the initial loss of territory the French counterattacked with their own tanks.  We went in with them. We had learned how to deal with the German counterattacks. We flew low over the tanks and machine gunned the storm troopers who tried to surround each tank and kill its crew.  The storm troopers were brave and they were tough but .303 bullets from a pair of Vickers can reduce a man to a bloody wreck in seconds. Gradually we wore them down and the attacks stopped. By the time we had beaten back the hordes we were down to four Camels which were able to fly.  The rest needed the care and attention of more mechanics than we had at our disposal.  Our sister squadron, flying the SE 5 had suffered even more.  Their larger size had meant that four had been shot down and they only had two serviceable aeroplanes left.

We all thanked God when, on June twelfth, we were stood down.

Once more the Offensive had disrupted the flow of letters from home and I received a large number.  They were all out of order. Beattie’s told me that she was now staying with Mary and that her days as a nurse were, temporarily over. I had arranged to have some of my pay sent to Mary’s for I did not want my wife living on charity. Mum, of course, had said that she would be delighted to have Beattie staying with her and I found, in my letters, the letter from Beattie telling me that she would be travelling to Burscough in June.  I felt a deep sense of relief.  I was not unhappy with Beattie staying with Mary but family was family.  My two sisters and my unborn child’s cousin lived close by. It was right that a Harsker should be born at Burscough. The letters from my sisters showed their unbounded joy.  I left Lady Mary’s letter until last for I was dreading reading it.

Lieutenant Fox had been a changed man since my talk with him.  When Freddie returned to duty he was as delighted as anyone that his fine young pilot was back in the cockpit both physically and mentally. Like me he worried about the future. I was a coward.  I did not want to read the letter alone and I sought out Freddie.  We went to an empty mess and had a beer while I read it. The letter did not make pleasant reading.

“It seems that Jeremiah Ramsden is as dour as his name sounds.  He was polite to Lady Mary but refused to countenance reconciliation with Lieutenant Fox.  As far as he was concerned they would not be together even when she was twenty one.” I read the next paragraph and threw it down.  “Damn!”

“What is it?”

I picked it up again. “Apparently Lady Mary managed a few words with this Caroline. She told Lady Mary, in confidence that she was convinced that she was with child. She has not told her parents.”

“Surely that will make a difference.”

“Lady Mary thinks not!” I finished off my beer. “That leaves us a problem.  Do we tell young Fox that his wife is pregnant?”

“He might run.”

“He might. The thing is the baby won’t be born until almost Christmas. Much can happen in the meantime.” I looked at Freddie.  “He is in your flight. I leave the decision to you.” It was the most cowardly thing I ever did and one of the few decisions which I came to regret. Freddie nodded.

The next day began what was to become an attempt to retake the land recently captured by the Germans. The Americans had entered the war in greater numbers and were supporting the French.  General Foch counterattacked the Germans at Soissons. I suppose we should have felt honoured that we were requested as support for the French but it did not feel that way.  To be fair to the generals at Amiens we were close to the French sector and we had supported them before. I had been honoured for my work with a medal but it would also bring us into contact with Jasta I.  Although the Red Baron was dead his legacy remained and we would be going up against the best pilots the Germans had. They were replacing the Fokker Triplane with new buses and although they did not have them in large numbers they were highly effective as fighters.  General Trenchard kept trying to get Archie to change to the SE 5.  He said he would keep the Camels. We liked them.

Our role was simple.  We had to keep the German aeroplanes away from the French and Americans.  It meant two sorties a day and tiredness soon became a factor.

We were back to full strength and our wounded pilots returned.  The replacements had arrived and, once again, I had the most experienced flight. We took off at the beginning of July and headed south and east. We now knew that we could not get above the German fighters and we had to resort to other tactics. Each flight had a different sector but we were close enough to see the others.  I was in the centre with Freddie to my starboard and Ted to port.  I kept the line astern stacked above me. My pilots liked it and it had been lucky for us.

I saw some Rumpler bombers escorted by a mixture of the new Fokkers and the older triplanes.  They were heading west for the Marne.  Waggling my wings I led my flight towards them. The newer fighters came directly for us while the Fokkers gave close protection to the vulnerable two seaters. There were eight of the Fokker D. VII.  I hoped that Freddie would see the bombers and deal with them.  We would have our hands full.

The only slight advantage we had was that the Germans were a bigger target but they could fly slightly faster than we could and were damned hard to knock out of the sky. All the fighters we met these days had fantastic paint schemes and it was hard to tell who you were fighting.  Some of the ones we fought that day had a strange design we later discovered was called a Swastika. The design actually helped us for you had another target apart from the German cross.

The extra height and speed of the German fighters brought them down to us remarkably quickly. They seemed to fill the air. The ones on the extreme side of the flight fired their guns at me at the same time that the leader did.  I felt the bullets as they hit my wings and my fuselage.  I was lucky for I did not detect any damage or deterioration in performance. I kept my nerve and did not fire until we were just forty yards apart.  My bullets hit his engine and then Wally’s hit the pilot. His garishly painted Fokker went into a dive beneath me. In my mirror I saw Wally’s Camel struck by many bullets.  He was not as lucky as I was and his engine started to smoke. He was now an old hand and he banked to starboard. He would head home.

Without my wingman I had little choice.  I flew my Camel directly at the Fokker to my right.  Once again I risked a collision and, once again, the German pilot took evasive action.  As he presented his side to me I fired from close range and saw his struts and wires severed. His top wing began to flex alarmingly and I saw the pilot trying to control his damaged bird. He pulled the aeroplane to port and I fired at his Swastika. I was so close that my twin Vickers tore a hole in the side. I had to jerk my nose up as I nearly collided with a third Fokker.  I saw the one that I had damaged spiral slowly to earth. He might land but it would not be at his own airfield. I turned to starboard to attempt to fire at the Fokker I had just missed. He must have flown into Jack Fall’s gun sights for his propeller disappeared as the .303 tore into it. Another Fokker fell from the sky and then it was empty.

I was feeling pleased with myself when I saw Lieutenant Fielding’s Camel burning on the ground.  I had lost one of my young lads. I had hoped to have them all last until the end of the war but it was not meant to be. Poor Gordy’s flight had fared even worse; Lieutenant Wilson and Lieutenant Smart had both died.  They were new pilots who had lasted a mere week in France.  The Western Front was a cruel teacher.