by Griff Hosker
He had the good grace to accept the criticism with a smile, “You are right, sir. I always haven been eager. I like to be first in everything.”
“There is nothing wrong with eagerness but impatience might get you killed. You need to hold your nerve when bullets are coming in the opposite direction. A moving target is always hard to hit so when they are firing at you a slight adjustment in the attitude of your aeroplane can put the enemy gunner off. If you then make sure you are as steady as you can be when you fire, then you have a greater chance of making a kill.”
“Sir.”
“Yes, Mr. Nash?”
“We cannot fly again today. The weather is deteriorating. The front is coming much faster than we thought. The Captain is heading for Terijoki. The squadron is going there. It is a better anchorage.”
“Thank you Mr. Nash. Then that gives us more time to talk about today. I want you all to go to the hangar and speak with your mechanics. Get into the habit. Find out what the flight did to your aeroplane.”
Air Observer Hunt snorted, “Wrecked ours would be the assessment I think, sir.”
I saw Bob Newton colour. “Hunt would you and Mr. Newton stay behind. I would like a little chat.”
Sub Lieutenant Nash was going to stay too but I shook my head. When they had closed the door and left us I took out my pipe and filled it. I needed to be calm. As soon as I had it going I felt calmer. I pointed the stem at Hunt. “I thought that you had heeded my advice but you did not. You and Mr. Newton are a team. You support each other.”
“But sir, he nearly got me killed!”
I saw Flight Lieutenant Newton open his mouth to say something and then think better of it. “And when you are in combat it will be Mr. Newton who will save your life. You are his passenger.” He looked sullenly at the ground. “Get out of my sight! You annoy the life out of me. I will speak with you later.”
“Sir, that is not fair!”
“Son, life is not fair! Get used to it! One more word and you will be on a charge!”
After he had gone I saw the expression on Newton’s face. He was terrified. “Another cup of tea, eh Bob? Could you do the honours.”
I sat on a chair. I wanted to be on the same level when I spoke to him. He brought the two teas and sat opposite me. He took nervous quick puffs from his cigarette. I held up the pipe. “I never got away with cigarettes, you know Bob. Perhaps it was because my father smoked a pipe, I don’t know. There is an art and a ritual to it. You ream and clean the bowl. You pull a cleaner through the stem. You carefully fill it with tobacco; not too tight or it won’t draw. Then you use a match.” I smiled, “My father always used a spelk from the fire. When it is drawing, you tamp it down with your finger. If you do it right, then a good pipe can last for an hour or more.”
He smiled, “I know sir, my grandfather smoked a pipe.”
“And it is the same with flying. There is a ritual about it. You check your bus before you take off. You have a set of procedures that you run through and you carry a mental checklist. What went wrong today? Start with the take-off.”
“Peter Rogers is a good pilot sir. I saw that Harry rose steeply whereas Peter had a gentle climb. I was trying to copy his take off.”
“And that is where you went wrong. You are not Peter Rogers. You know how to take off don’t you?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Then trust your own ability. Now the landing. What was that all about? You were waved off. You could have killed the Air Mechanic.” He was silent. I looked carefully at him. He was the youngest of my pilots and the one who had been at school the most recently. He did not want to speak out of turn. “What did Hunt say?”
His eyes widened like an animal caught in hunter’s sights. “How did you know he said anything, sir?”
I smiled. “I have been reading men since 1915. What did he say?”
“As we came in he said I had to make up for the shambles of a take-off.”
“And that distracted you.”
“Yes sir.”
“Why didn’t you obey the wave off?”
“He told me to stop being a baby and put the damned aeroplane on the deck!”
“You are an officer.”
“Yes sir, but he is clever and knows so much.”
I nodded. “I see. Well from now on you are in charge in that aeroplane. He is your observer and he does what you say. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir, but aren’t I going to be disciplined? I mean I nearly killed a man and I damaged a valuable aeroplane.”
“You made a mistake. They will repair the aeroplane. Now go and have a shower and a walk around the deck. Clear your head. We will have another chat tomorrow.”
He looked so grateful. His eyes widened, “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down again.”
“Sadly, Bob, when we make mistakes in combat the only person we let down is ourselves because it normally results in our death.”
I headed up to the hangar. Peter Rogers was still there speaking with Air Mechanic Jones. I waved him over. “Peter come and take a turn around the deck with me.”
“Yes sir.”
When we reached the deck, the wind struck us. I wandered over to the turret of the 7.5 and stood in the lee of it so that I could light my pipe. “Hunt and Newton, what is the story?”
“They come from the same town and same school, sir. Hunt was two years above Newton. The captain put them together. He thought it was for the best.”
“But you don’t?”
“No sir. Hunt is a bully and a damned unpleasant fellow. Sorry sir, but you do want the truth, don’t you?”
“Of course, Peter. Always tell me the truth and not what you think I want to hear. Now what kind of pilot is Bob? I saw signs today that he has skills.”
“He does sir. He was top of the class at Flight School. It was only when he was put with Hunt that he began to make mistakes.”
I nodded and puffed on my pipe. The Baltic was an empty cold sea. The waves were flecked with white and the sea looked almost black. It matched my mood. “I am going to ask you to do something. It is not an order, it is a request and I will not be upset if you refuse.”
“Sir.”
“What is your gunner like?”
“Jack? Salt of the earth and as reliable as hell. Sorry sir. You could not ask for a better gunner.”
“Would you swap him with Hunt?”
He laughed, “You are joking sir?” He saw my face, “Oh, I see sir. Right. I understand now.” He smiled, “I can see that leadership is never easy. If I want to be a leader like you someday then I have to learn to make difficult decisions. Of course, sir. Jack is perfect for Bob and I can whip Hunt into shape. I met enough bullies at my school to know how to deal with them.”
“Thank you, Peter. I think the disasters of today will prove to be the making of our little flight.”
The next day I gathered my crew together and told them of the new arrangement. Hunt look appalled and Newton looked relieved. As a reward and as we had docked in Finland, I gave them leave for the day. There was little we could do anyway. There would be no flying for a few days and the Strutter was still being repaired. I went to see the captain. As he had made the initial pairing I felt obliged to tell him what I had done.
“Of course, you did the right thing. I feel such a fool now. When I put them together your young pilot did not look happy. Now I see why. That explains the crash.”
He poured us both a pink gin. “When does the 1st Light Cruiser Squadron arrive, sir?”
“They rounded the Skagerrak this morning. Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.”
“I feel sorry for the Rear Admiral.”
“Don’t be. He is glad to be going. This is a war which can’t be won. You know that. None of us will come out of this with anything worth remembering.”
“I think, sir, that was us on the Western Front.”
“Quite. Me and my size nines. Putting them in my mouth again!”
“And the
Count?”
He smiled, “The Count and Mr. Rees are still in Reval, I am afraid. I suspect that is why we are here so that Rear Admiral Cowans can reap the full benefit of the Rear Admiral’s information! Besides it is somewhat safer here than in Reval. The Finns do not like the Bolsheviks, nor the Russians.”
“As soon as the weather clears, sir, I would like to practise the take offs.”
“Of course, Squadron Leader. Oh, by the by you do know that we are just fifty or so miles from Peterhof here? I daresay you could pop over and have a look see yourself. You seem to me the sort of chap who would do just that.”
“You have me right there, sir. I may well just do that.”
I went to my cabin and read the reports again. I studied the maps and saw that Captain Parr had given me accurate information. It was just over thirty-eight miles to Peterhof but that would have necessitated flying over the Bolshevik fleet. If I could discover what the airfield looked like, then I could plan better. I then cleaned my weapons. I had had a holster made for my German pistol. I decided to go on deck before dinner and have a practice with my service revolver and my Walther. I warned the deck crew what I was doing. I had one of the sentries drop empty cans in the water and I fired at them as they passed. When I had done that, I went back to my cabin, retrieved the Lee Enfield and took it to the Sopwith. I liked to have it in the cockpit with me. It had saved me before now.
My men took advantage of their leave and did not return for dinner. I ate with Mr. Nash. He was keen to learn more about aeroplanes. “This is the future, sir. Your aeroplanes can fly further than the largest guns can fire. You are right. You could drop bombs and destroy battleships. As far as I know no one else is doing what I do. Captain Parr appointed an officer from the ship. The rest of the carriers, like the Ark Royal, use a pilot or mechanic to do it.”
“It might be useful if you could fly Mr. Nash. Then you would appreciate the problems a pilot might face.”
“Isn’t it awfully hard sir?”
“Actually, if you can drive a car then you can fly. Air combat? Totally different. I know some chaps who are the most marvellous pilots but would not last two minutes in an aerial battle. Next time you are in England have a few lessons eh?”
He beamed, “Thank you, sir. That is splendid advice.”
I left the mess and, after fetching my flying coat, took a turn around the flight deck. The wind had dropped and now came the snow. It was a blizzard. It was what they called a white out. At least that was what Mr. Rees told me and I could see why. You could not see your hand in front of your face. One lap was more than enough and I descended to the hangar. I went down the companionway. Slipping silently through the door I discovered that the hangar was empty. I went to the Strutter which had been damaged. It was on the port side of the hangar; the opposite side to my Camel. The repairs were coming on well. They had replaced the propeller and the undercarriage was almost fixed. They were good mechanics. I could not see much because it was dark but it now had the shape of an aeroplane. When it had been brought below decks it had not.
It was as I was walking across to my Camel that I heard the noise. It was the sound of a liquid dripping on to the wooden deck. I paused to identify where it came from. Then I heard a whispered grunt as though someone had hurt themselves. There were no lights. This was not a mechanic working late. I drew my service revolver. The Webley had six bullets and was a handy weapon. It was not, however, as fast as the Walther. It just had a bigger bullet. That might be dangerous in the hangar. If I fired it, I could do some damage to the aeroplanes. I would have to be cautious.
I used the Strutters for cover. I walked stealthily. One of those I was seeking spoke. It was a foreign language and sounded like Russian. An angry voice snapped back. There were two of them. I realised that the smell was that of aeroplane fuel. I had a dilemma. Did I shout to frighten them and risk them throwing a match down or did I try to shoot them? I moved closer; I desperately peered into the dark to try to see them. The movement of one of them gave them away. I saw them. They were close to the engine of my Camel. I saw one of them lay down something that looked like a fuel can. They had soaked my engine and were ready to set fire to it.
They were just twenty feet from me but they were close to the aeroplane. When one turned and seemed to stare at me I could delay no longer. I dropped to one knee and held the gun in a two-handed stance. I would try to wound. I fired two bullets at the one who was not holding the can and then another two at the other. As soon as I had fired I ran up to them. They had both squatted after I had fired. One had a bullet in his knee and a hole in his chest. The other had been hit in the chest by both bullets. They were both dying. The Webley bullet makes a large hole and at that short range they were too easy a target. I saw that the first one I had shot had a lighter. Even dying he was trying to reach for it. I kicked it from his grasp. Although it was dark there was something familiar about him. I took the pistols and knives they had in their belts. The knives were sticky with blood. They had been used recently.
Behind me I heard men running and suddenly the hangar was illuminated as the lights were turned on. Two Marines stood there with rifles at the ready and Petty Officer Banks held his service revolver in his left hand. I looked down at the dying man I had vaguely recognised. He spat at me. It came out as a bloody phlegm. Then he expired. It was then that I knew who he was. He was one of the Count’s bodyguards!
“What happened, sir?”
“I am guessing that they were saboteurs. I came down here to have a look at the damaged Strutter and I disturbed them. They have soaked my cowling with petrol.”
“Don’t you worry sir, we will clean it. The bastards murdered the two sentries. They had their throats cut. You gave these a quick death. I would have made them suffer.”
I did not tell them that I recognised one of them. I would save that for Mr. Rees and the Captain.
The Captain and his Master at Arms were heading for the hangar when I emerged. “Did you see anyone else, sir?”
“No. They were trying to sabotage the Camel. I passed the other aeroplanes and I did not see anyone.”
The Master at Arms looked relieved, “Sorry about this, sir. It was the snow. The sentries couldn’t see that far. I can’t speak ill of the dead but their lack of attention has cost them their lives. I will go and check the area again.”
Captain Parr shook his head, “He didn’t thank you for what you did. I will do. It is lucky you are vigilant.”
I lowered my voice, “I know one of them. He was one of Count Fydorervich’s bodyguards.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes sir, but it makes no sense. The Count is fighting the Bolsheviks.”
“It will be interesting to see his face when we tell him. What is more worrying is how he got here in time to sabotage us. He must have been sent before we knew we were coming here. That means treachery at a higher level than we thought. I think the Rear Admiral will be well out of this. As soon as day breaks I shall go and see him. I had already doubled the guards and ordered a complete embargo on anyone coming aboard. We have raised the gangplank. It does not mean that we cannot be boarded but we cannot be boarded easily and the Master at Arms is mounting a watch on your aeroplanes. Tomorrow we will moor in the bay. My decision to tie up and allow some leave has backfired somewhat and two men have paid with their lives.”
My mind was still racing. After returning to my cabin and to calm my thoughts, I added to my letter to Beattie. I would put it aboard the flagship when she sailed.
The snow had stopped by dawn. The flight deck was cleared of snow and the ship got up steam. My officers had bad heads but they still crowded around my table. “You shot them both sir?”
“I did Harry. Had I not done so then the Camel would have been set on fire and the whole of the flight would have been destroyed. I fear this means that their aeroplanes are ready to take to the skies and they are afraid of our four aeroplanes.” I smiled, “Take it as a compliment, gentle
men.”
“But sir, you shot two men!”
I realised what Harry Greaves was saying, “You will kill men, Mr. Greaves. The only difference will be that you are trying to down their aeroplane and their death is incidental.”
Peter Rogers said, quietly, “But you are really saying, sir, that we should think about killing the man behind the yoke.”
I nodded, “In many ways it is a kindness. When we first flew, combat took place a couple of hundred feet in the air. If you were hit, then you had a chance to land. If you are hit at ten thousand feet, then you have no chance. And I have seen pilots burned to death. That is not a good way to die. If you are a fighter pilot it is certain that you are going to kill men with your machine guns.” I drained my tea. “And if we do knock out the Bolshevik air force then I am certain that the Russians will want us to strafe their troops on the ground.”
Flight Lieutenant Newton shook his head, “I am not sure I could do that.”
“You would have no choice, Bob. The enemy would be firing at you. You have to get used to the fact that it is kill or be killed.”
The attack had a sobering effect on the whole of the flight. It brought their precarious position into perspective. The training was for a purpose. The war they were in was not remote and it had touched them. Even Hunt seemed to change that morning. The Captain went by launch to speak with the Rear Admiral. I gave him my letter to Beattie. He promised me he would put it aboard with the other mail. It was a link to home.
We joined the air mechanics to ensure that nothing on the aeroplanes had been sabotaged. The puddles of blood were being scrubbed by Jones even as we were checking the rigging on the biplanes. The bodies had been taken away but the evidence remained. Each time they came to the hangar they superstitiously avoided stepping on the spot where the two men had died. Even when the mark was eradicated its position was marked in their minds.
