by Griff Hosker
He leaned out and looked back. “They are sir. Their gunners are nervous too. They’ll be better once they fire on their first Hun and realise they aren’t that good.” I smiled at Sergeant Hutton’s lack of modesty. The Germans were good. Other squadrons were not having the success that we were. It was just that we had a good bus and a good combination of pilots and gunners.
Shells began to burst around us. We had learned not to worry too much about them. The odds on a hit or damage were slim. You risked more danger by jinking around the sky to avoid them. With our huge wingspan we were in great danger of crashing into another Gunbus if we did that. “Better arm your weapon.”
“Right sir!”
I glanced down and saw the front line we had visited yesterday. I could see that the Australians had attacked and the stretcher bearers were bringing back the wounded already. Another two days and the Scousers would be back on the line. The nerves would be getting to them already. They would be viewing their comrades and wondering who would buy it this time. We would have to make sure that we did our job and, perhaps, fewer would die.
Having flown the area before I knew where Warlencourt was. “Keep your eyes peeled we are almost there.”
I began to climb a little. When the bombers dropped their bombs they would begin to ascend ready to head west. I wanted to give them plenty of room. I saw them begin their bombing run. There was a great deal of ground fire. They only had a rear facing gun and had to endure the gauntlet of steel which was thrown at them. They were brave men. We should have gone in with them and machine gunned the defenders. Hindsight was always perfect!
The bombers were accurate, far more so than the artillery would have been even had we been spotting for them. However there was a cost. One of the bombers was hit and plunged to the ground. It had not dropped its bombs and it must have hit a vehicle loaded with fuel. There was an enormous fireball. I saw two more bombers damaged by shrapnel. The eleven survivors turned to head west. Even as they turned one of them began pouring smoke from its engine and I saw it crash land in a field. Archie and his flight zoomed down to check on the crew. We had heard that some air crews were shot out of hand by angry Germans but it was with some relief that we saw them taken prisoner.
We were to wait until the bombers had crossed the front line before we were to leave but that went by the board as two Jastas buzzed towards us like angry wasps. They must have scrambled and taken off in a hurry for there was none of the usual German efficiency. They were not in any particular order or height. That suited us.
“Right Lumpy, let us go amongst them!”
As we had planned Gordy and his two aeroplanes were on my port side. I hoped that our two aeroplanes could plough a lane through the Germans and send them away from the bombers in disarray. We had the height advantage and we began to dive. It gave us a greater speed and meant that when we turned we might be slightly faster for a few hundred yards. That could make all the difference.
The German aeroplanes opened fire too soon. The bullets zipped around us but were merely an annoyance. I waited until Lumpy had opened fire before I put my fingers on the trigger. His bullets smacked into the engine block of the first Fokker which did give the pilot some protection. How they saw over it I do not know. I banked slightly to the right which allowed Lumpy to stitch a line of bullets along from the engine. He must have hit the pilot for he savagely pulled the nose up and away. He barely missed colliding with a second Fokker. The second German had to swerve and Gordy could not miss. He and his gunner opened up and the aeroplane plunged to the earth. We now had a gap in their lines and we flew on. It would be down to my new pilots now and their gunners.
Sergeant Hutton was enjoying the number of targets he had. I continued with my gentle bank. A Halberstadt came into my sights. They were a faster and a better aeroplane than the Fokker but with just a fixed gun facing forward he had no defence against an oblique attack such as mine. I watched as he tried, in vain, to bring the nose of his aeroplane around to hit me. I waited until the last moment and then I gave him a long burst. My bullets ripped into his engine and then along the cockpit. I saw him slump in his seat and the aeroplane began to spiral down.
We were gradually heading towards Archie and his flights. There were six aeroplanes between us and we hit them with a wicked crossfire. It was hard to see who hit what but four of them were hit. I could not see which ones were actually destroyed but four of them were out of the equation. As our flights converged we began to head west. I signalled for my two rookies to ascend. “Hutton get on the rear Lewis and see if those lads have followed orders.”
“Sir.”
He did his usual struggle and then, after he had cocked his Lewis he gave me the thumbs up. He frowned and then he shouted, “Lieutenant Steadman isn’t there.” Lieutenant Steadman was from Gordy’s flight. I saw him scanning the ground and then he pointed behind me. I craned my neck and saw the burning Gunbus. A fire like that normally meant no one was walking away. I had thought that we had had a perfect mission but we had lost a good pilot and gunner.
Freddy and Johnny were waiting for us as we landed. I nodded, “The new boys did well. Thanks for giving them the talk.”
“You are welcome, sir.”
Freddy looked at the others who were just landing. The numbers on the front made it easy to see who was missing. “I see Geoff Steadman bought it. Did he land safely?”
Hutton came up behind me and mimed an explosion, “Boom!”
It brought my pilots up sharply. Geoff had joined the squadron just after they had and they had been friends. Losing friends was always hard but when you lost pilots with less experience it made you question your own mortality.
When I reached Captain Marshall’s office Archie and Ted were there already. “Good show out there.”
I gave him the figures for the aeroplanes we had damaged and destroyed. He began to tot them up. “How many bombers did we lose?”
“I made it four.”
“So with Geoff’s aeroplane we lost five in total.”
“Not a bad return, Bill.”
“But not good enough, sir. Our tactics worked fine. We caught them on the hop and we had them. I know we couldn’t do anything about the bombers over the targets; the ones hit by ground fire but we shouldn’t be losing any in air combat. The only advantage they have over us now is speed and a head on attacks negates that.”
Archie shook his head. “You are looking for perfection, laddie.”
“I know sir. I just think it is better than accepting second best.”
Gordy came in, “What happened to Geoff?”
“One of the Hun rolled between Steadman and Carstairs. It was a nice manoeuvre. He got Geoff when Carstairs gunner couldn’t fire for fear of hitting Steadman.”
“But he could have fired!”
Gordy looked at me and shook his head, “Bill, you weren’t there how do you know?”
“The same way that you know, Gordy; the gunner can traverse his gun. Lumpy and Sergeant Laithwaite could have done it.”
“They are the best gunners in the squadron, Bill.”
“Then let us use that expertise to train the others to the same standard.” I sighed, “Look sir, it is military economics. Geoff Steadman was a bloody good pilot. We had got him up to the same standard as Carrick and Holt. By having gunners who aren’t as well trained as our pilots it means we now have to bring on a new pilot straight from Blighty. I know those two lads today didn’t do badly but how long will it take to get them to Steadman’s standard?”
I knew my argument had defeated them. “You may be right. Randolph, set up some afternoon training. Bill, tell the two sergeants.”
“Right sir.”
We began to leave and Captain Marshall said, “One more thing. Headquarters wants to know more details about the Germans we meet; any numbers or identifications. It seems the Hun is reorganising his Jastas. The more we know the better we can defeat them.”
“Well those Halberstadts we fou
ght today were painted a sort of buff colour. The handful of aeroplanes we fought last time were a pale blue.”
“Good, that is the sort of thing.”
Ted looked mystified, “How does that help us?”
“It tells us that were two squadrons.”
Gordy nodded, suddenly animated, “And those Fokkers we fought the other day, I noticed that they had their wheels painted in four different colours.”
“Why?” asked a still confused Ted.
“No idea,” said Captain Marshall, “unless it is like the flight number painted on the front of our buses.”
Hutton and Laithwaite were more than happy to share their expertise. When Sergeant Laithwaite left us Lumpy confided in me. “They all come to us in the Sergeant’s Mess anyway sir. On our little kills table Jack and me are the top, by a long way. They are all keen to find out how to do it.”
“What you tell them is important. Carstairs’ gunner didn’t fire today because he was afraid of hitting the Gunbus in front of him.”
“But you just fire to the side, sir!”
“Exactly and that is what you need to tell them.”
We were back on our regular flight patrols the next day. Gordy was given Lieutenant Swan to replace Steadman and I had Lieutenant Dunston. ”You fly astern of me. Johnny can watch your rear. Don’t try to win the war by yourself. You need time to come to terms with air combat.”
“I know sir.” He hesitated, “Sir, is it always as terrifying? I mean when the Germans are coming at you so quickly. You have so much to think about. How do you make it look so easy?”
“We have one of the best gun platforms ever invented. You have twice as many guns as the Germans we are fighting. Your sergeant can traverse his gun. If you can hold your nerve until they are close then you will hit them and they will miss.”
“Aren’t you afraid you will hit your own gunner?”
“The only time that might happen is when they change magazines. Make sure your gunner tells you when he is changing his magazine and you will have no problem.”
“And how do you change your magazine?”
“Choose your moment. Wait until you are flying straight and level and there are no enemy aeroplanes close enough to attack. Brace the yoke with your knees and do it quickly.” He nodded, “But don’t try it for a few days eh? If you empty a magazine then you have fired too many bullets anyway. Short bursts are best.”
The front had moved less than hitherto. When we flew over the trenches nearest to the enemy I realised that my friends from Liverpool would be below us. We were too high to wave and I was more concerned with finding the enemy. But I knew that they were there. The war had become more personal. Hutton’s wife’s cousin was below us.
I knew that once we had stabilised the front then we would be spotting for the artillery. I decided to see what problems might lay ahead for the artillery and the infantry. We flew south of Warlencourt. This was newer territory to us.
I noticed more woods here. So far they had escaped damage but they would be a deadly battleground once the fighting moved there. Suddenly there came the rapid fire of machine guns and a large calibre of gun. They had guns waiting in the woods. They had made a mistake for had they not fired we would not have seen them. I began to climb as we cleared the woods.
“Sergeant, do you have any of your special eggs with you?”
“Always, sir.” I heard the chuckle in his voice.
“Right then we will drop them and then give them the Lewis guns.”
I began to spiral up so that I could signal to Holt. I made the sign for him to circle with the others while I dived down. I made sure that all three pilots nodded their understanding and then I began a steep dive. I knew that this would make life difficult for the gunners below. They would have to judge both height and speed. They helped us, again, by opening fire enabling Hutton to get a rough idea of where they were. He pulled the pins and dropped two as we dived and, as I began to climb, he dropped the other two. There were four quick explosions and then a much larger one.
“I think I hit the ammunition, sir.”
“Well done. Let’s go and pick up the boys and machine gun them on the way home.”
After collecting the three Gunbuses we dived down to attack the woods. The explosion had cleared some of the ancient trees and there were fires burning. We came in at a shallower angle. I fired straight ahead while Hutton sprayed to the right. There was no return fire. We had shaken them a little. It was good for the young pilots to have such an easy target. No one was firing back at them. They could concentrate on hitting their targets.
I kept us low as we zoomed over the front line. I risked a waggle of the wings and a wave. I knew that they would have heard the explosions in the woods and I wanted their morale boosting. Out visit had made me realise how important were such tiny victories. We would have no Waterloo in this war!
We landed and awaited the others. Lieutenant Dunston looked a little happier. “I say, sir, that was fun.” Sergeant Hutton had just checked over the aeroplane and he nodded as he came by. “Sir, where did your Sergeant get the bombs he dropped?”
I smiled, “I never ask. It seems wiser that way.”
Lumpy looked at the young lieutenant, “Why sir? Do you fancy dropping a couple yourself?”
He grinned, “Perhaps my gunner eh?”
“I’ll have a word sir.”
“Thanks, Sergeant Hutton.”
After he had wandered off Dunston said, “When those guns opened up I became worried.”
“Why is that?”
“Well they seemed like artillery pieces and I was worried what would happen if they hit us.”
“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that, Peter.”
He brightened, “Why not sir?”
“Because if they hit you then you would know nothing about it for you would be dead.” I mimed an explosion, “Boom!”
As I made my way to the headquarters I noticed that there appeared to be a crowd outside and the ambulance we normally used for injured pilots and gunners was parked there. I looked around but could not see any damaged aeroplanes. In fact, even as I looked, I heard the hum of the rest of the squadron returning.
When I reached the office I said to Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery, “What’s up Flight?”
He looked distraught, “It’s the Colonel, sir, Doc Brennan says he has had a heart attack.” I made to go into his office but Lowery restrained me, “I think he has all the people he needs in there right now, sir.”
“You are right.”
Archie joined me and I filled him in before he asked. “I thought the old boy wasn’t looking too clever lately. He spends too long worrying about us all. It must be hard sending young lads off every day and watching them get killed.”
“And it will remind him of his son.”
“Aye, I’d forgotten.”
“He seemed a little pensive the other day when we went to the trenches. I put it down to the emotion of the place but perhaps he was unwell then.”
Randolph came out. “Well he is not at death’s door any more but Doctor Brennan wants to send him back to Blighty. I think the Colonel’s war just ended. It looks like you will be in charge, Major Leach.”
Chapter 7
We were still sat in the colonel’s office an hour after he had been taken away in an ambulance. Doc Brennan had spoken to us briefly but he accompanied the colonel to the base hospital. “I am afraid that I am more used to dealing with wounds than heart disease but I think I did enough to give him a chance. I don’t think he will be returning, certainly not in the near future.”
Archie summed it up best, “He deserves some time in the sun. He owes this country nothing. God Bless him.”
We had toasted the colonel with the last of his own whisky. It seemed appropriate somehow. We knew that the rest of the squadron was on tenterhooks. They had only seen the ambulance drive away and knew nothing of the events.
Captain Marshall addressed Major Leach, “S
ir, I think, until Headquarters gets in touch that you should assume command.”
“Aye, well I suppose that won’t be a problem.”
“Will you still fly, sir?”
I thought he was going to explode. “Too bloody right I will! You don’t think I am past it, too, do you?”
“No,” said Captain Marshall, patiently, “but the day to day running of the squadron needs more than just me.”
“Sorry, Randolph you are right.” He sipped his whisky, “We will need another Flight Commander. Anybody in mind?”
“It’s a frightening thought sir but the most experienced are Holt, Sharp and Carrick.”
“Good God you are right. Who would you suggest? You know the three of them better than anybody.”
I thought back to the conversations I had had recently with Johnny and Freddy. They were still too idealistic. “Charlie Sharp would be the best choice. He knows the Gunbus inside out and he never flaps.”
“You are right. Since he has been my wingman I have had no worries about being jumped. What about the other two?”
“If you move Johnny Holt to your A Flight he will be a good number two for Charlie and I will keep young Peter.”
“Seems a good idea.”
Randolph coughed, “Sir, without being too Machiavellian, it strikes me that if we promoted either Ted or Gordy to Captain then it would pre-empt an appointment by Headquarters. The last time they dumped Garrington-Jones on us.”
He looked at me and I thought that he was going to ask my opinion again. I would have had to decline had he asked me. They were both good friends of mine. I could not choose. “Gordy, I think and you can have Ted’s flight with yours. It will balance things out.”
We all nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief. I think it was the correct decision but I was just pleased that I did not have to make it.
“And now sir, you had better tell Headquarters?”
“Quite right, Bill, go and tell the squadron what has happened to the colonel and then bring in Hewitt, Sharp and Thomas. We might as well keep them in the picture.”
