1914 British Ace

by Griff Hosker

  All four of us were excited beyond words. It had been an outstanding kill for the captain. He had had a very short window of opportunity but he had taken it well. It might have been an old German aeroplane but the pilot would have died in the crash. We were hurting the enemy.

  Out elation was short lived as Gordy’s aeroplane arrived alone. We met them as they descended.

  Captain Burscough said, “Lieutenant Shaw?”

  Captain Devries shook his head, “He was forced down behind their lines. He is alive but they have captured him and his observer. Lieutenant Shaw’s war is over.”

  We were like a balloon suddenly deflated of air. He had been a likeable chap and now he would be a prisoner of war. His only hope would be that we could capture one of their pilots and exchange them. For Stan, the Flight Sergeant, the prospects were a little bleaker. It was only officers who were exchanged. It would be a prisoner of war camp for him.

  The major sent us alone the next day and the other two aeroplanes were despatched to patrol the same sector where Lieutenant Shaw had come to grief. In many ways it was easier being on your own. You had to be more alert but you didn’t need to worry about the other aeroplane. We went further north. Our report had pleased the major but Intelligence needed to know about the left flank of our lines. This was new territory for us. We flew high for safety and then swept down. There was no railway line but the road had a column of cavalry on it. I would not be firing on the column. I could not inflict on horses what our regiment had endured.

  We turned and headed south. “We’ll come back along the railway line and see if there are more troops using it.”

  “Right sir.”

  It was a cold day but there was neither rain nor snow and my boots, scarf and balaclava kept me warm. The fingerless gloves had proved to be a godsend and I had asked mother for another couple of pairs. I wore my gloves as I scanned the map. When we reached the railway line there was a goods train heading towards the front. We could not see what it carried and so the captain dived for a closer look. To our horror they had a flat car fitted with multiple machine guns. They opened up and a cone of fire headed towards us. The captain yanked hard on the stick and the engine screamed as we tried to climb. I thought we had escaped until I saw the smoke coming from the engine.

  “Sir, we have been hit. Better get lower.”

  “Right. Keep your eyes peeled for a field.” The engine was really struggling and I saw the smoke getting thicker.

  “Sir, we need to land before we fall out of the sky.”

  “Keep watch for one.”

  I looked up to see if there were any German aeroplanes and I flicked my eyes to the ground. We needed a flat field. The weather worked in our favour. The ground was still frozen. It would make landing a possibility. I saw a patch of clear white. “There sir, to the north and west.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  I could now hear the engine struggling. I had no doubt that when the German train reached a halt they would let everyone know that there was a damaged bird behind their lines. I wondered if I would be joining Stan and become a prisoner. The engine became even more laboured as the field grew closer. I was just happy that we landed without cart wheeling. As soon as we stopped I leapt from the cockpit and threw the Lee Enfield to the captain. He stood in the cockpit and scanned the edges of the field. It seemed unnaturally quiet.

  I ran around to the engine hardly daring to look at what might have been damaged. If it was the propeller then we would not be able to take off again. If the bullets had penetrated the engine block then we would have to burn the aeroplane and try to get back to our own lines. Not an easy feat with trenches going from the English Channel to Switzerland!

  The propeller had been nicked but it was not dangerous and the engine block looked whole. As soon as I looked down I saw what the problem was. There was a pool of oil. An oil line had been cut. I opened the hatch which held my tools and other bits and bobs. I found some spare rubber tube and I used it to repair the cut. The tube I used was bigger than the one which had been cut and I was able to force the broken ends into the whole piece.

  Suddenly I heard the crack of the Lee Enfield. “Hurry up Bill! Huns at the edge of the field.”

  I glanced up and saw a line of infantry climbing the fence. “Nearly done sir.” There was an oil can we used to lubricate the joints and pistons. It was not perfect but it would have to do. I emptied it into the oil filler cap and then said. “Right sir, let’s try it.”

  “Contact!”

  The approaching Germans gave me added strength and the propeller flew around. It coughed and spluttered but it caught. I ran around to the front of the moving aeroplane. There were no chocks to hold it. The Germans infantry were less than two hundred yards away and they were firing at us. The captain’s Lewis was not pointing at them and they advanced quickly. I had to run alongside the moving aeroplane and haul myself on board. As soon as I was in the cockpit I cocked the Lewis and sprayed the infantry. This was no short burst; I emptied the magazine and then reloaded while we were still on the ground. We were now bouncing along the icy white field and the fence was rapidly approaching. The infantry were lying down and firing and I felt the bullets zoom and zip over my head. The infantry were behind us now and I emptied my Lee Enfield at them. The front of the aeroplane suddenly lifted. I heard the sound of breaking branches as the under carriage clipped the top of the hedge but we were aloft.

  I turned to give the thumbs up at the captain and saw him mouthing something. I connected my tube. “Good flying sir.”

  “Yes we were lucky. The thing is old chap, I appear to have been hit.”

  That was the worst news I could have heard. If he succumbed to his wounds then the aeroplane would dive to its and my death. “Is it bad sir?”

  “I don’t know. It’s my leg and it hurts like buggery! How is the engine doing?”

  I saw a thin plume of smoke coming from the engine. It did not like its new oil but it would survive. “It was an oil pipe. It is repaired and should get us home.”

  “Right then. It’s up to me. How far away are we?”

  “I reckon fifteen miles, sir.” I readied the Very Pistol. I would need to signal the field that we needed the doctor and a fire team. I kept watch on the captain. He looked a little pale beneath his helmet but he was smiling. “You’ll make it sir. Just hang on. Think of the pretty nurses who will see to your every need.”

  “Knowing my luck she will have a moustache and breath like a week old dead pig!”

  I glanced around. “Airfield ahead sir.” I fired a flare into the air. It would tell the field that we had wounded and the doctor would be standing by. “Hang on sir, the doc will be waiting for you.”

  I watched as the wings wobbled. I did not risk a glance astern for fear it would unsettle the captain. It was in God’s hands now; God and the captain. I was just the passenger. One wing seemed to be lower than the other. I prayed that we would not cartwheel. I had seen what it had done to the other observer. The quick death I had so blithely dismissed now seemed a little more painful. Inexorably the ground approached and I watched as the wing tip came up a little. We bumped down and then sprang up but the second bump saw us roll towards the huddle of anxious looking people.

  As soon as we stopped I leapt out and went to the captain’s assistance. He had passed out. The doctor and the medical orderlies were there in an instant. “He has been shot in the leg.”

  The doctor nodded, “Thank you Flight Sergeant, we’ll take it from here.”

  The major glanced at the unconscious captain as he was taken away and then came to me. “What happened?” I told him, describing the machine guns on the train. “You were damned lucky then. Well done Flight Sergeant.” I gave him a pleading look. He smiled, “Don’t worry, I will tell you any news as soon as I get it.”

  Gordy and Ted came over. I could see from their faces that they felt guilty. We had been alone. I told them what had happened. Ted went around to the engine. “I’
ll sort out the oil. She will need draining and refilling.” He glanced at the propeller. “You’ll need a new one of these too. You two sort out the holes.” He shook his head, “Looks like a piece of Swiss, bloody cheese!”

  Gordy and I began to assemble the canvas and glue for the repairs. “He is right you know, Bill, you are lucky. Not many can land, repair a crate and then take off again.”

  “I wish we had dual control aeroplanes, Gordy. I hated being helpless in the front. I kept remembering poor Stan.”

  “Aye, I know. The thought had crossed my mind.” He shook his head, “I think I shall put in to become a pilot. I would rather be in control than being a passenger.”

  “What will the major say?”

  “I think he would be happy about that. It saves getting a new boy from home. At least we have combat experience and know how to fly out here. Anyway I’ll give it a go.”

  It took two days to repair the F.E. 2 and about the same length of time for us to find out about the captain’s wound. The captain’s leg was saved and he was sent to the same hospital in England where I had been hospitalised. I went to see him the day he left. “How is the old bus?”

  “She is all repaired, sir. As good as new.”

  “Well I hate to leave you in the lurch like this.” He hesitated, “The major is letting Captain Dixon fly the bus until I return.” I could see in his eyes that he wanted me to cooperate.

  I smiled, “Righto sir. I’ll look after them both.”

  “I know you will. They say I’ll be away for a fortnight or so. If I can I’ll try to get you a decent coat.”

  “You don’t have to, sir.”

  “I know, Bill. I want to. I know that it was you who saved our bacon out there and I am grateful.”

  As I passed the squadron office I noticed that there was a letter from home for me. It had been some time since mother had written. I knew that letters were low down on the priorities of the war department but to us they were a lifeline home.

  Boxing Day 1915

  Dear Bill,

  Merry Christmas! I hope you are managing to celebrate. It was quiet this year, just Albert, Alice and Kathleen. Kathleen wanted her young man to come but I told her that until they are engaged then there are rules.

  We have been reading about all the poor soldiers wounded and killed in the trenches. I am glad that you are in an aeroplane. We never hear about any of those coming to grief.

  Did you read about the shelling of the East Coast? Some German ships sailed up to Hartlepool and Scarborough. They killed 78 women and children. They are evil those Germans. I didn’t agree with this war at first but if this is the sort of thing that they do then you need to sort them out and teach them a lesson. It was bad enough when they shot those poor Belgians but these were English families!

  Your sister, Sarah, suits marriage. We don’t see a great deal of them as she and her hubby, Cedric, live in the big house. There’s more room for the girls but I miss her. And I miss you. Take care, my dear boy, and come home safely to us. I pray for you every night and hope that God watches over you and all the other brave English boys.

  Your loving Mother

  xxxx

  And so I had to work with a new pilot. I wondered how Captain Dixon would cope. He had not flown combat since before Christmas and I thought that the crash and his dead observer would be on his mind. They were certainly on mine.

  Chapter 18

  Captain Dixon turned up the next morning as I was running through the early morning checks we performed. He was older than Captain Burscough and he was a serious looking officer. He came towards me with hand outstretched. “I just wanted to say that I am honoured and delighted to be flying with you. I’ll try to keep up Captain Burscough’s high standards.” His lordship had more kills than anyone else and was still the only pilot to have a confirmed kill on an enemy aeroplane.

  “Don’t worry sir, you’ll do all right. Are we up this morning?”

  “Yes, we will be with Captains Dundas and Devries. We are to be tail end Charlie.”

  I patted the rear facing gun. “That’s because we have a sting in our tail sir.”

  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I was petrified. You get used to a pilot. The take off seemed edgy and the flight not as smooth. It was probably my imagination but I had a queasy feeling in my stomach. Perhaps he would get better as the flight progressed. I kept turning to look behind us. Gordy, in the lead aeroplane would be spotting the enemy targets. I was looking for the Hun in the sun.

  We headed for the observation balloons. They had been absent since we had destroyed them earlier in the year. The effect on their artillery had been dramatic and they had not had the same success. We were told that they were back up and our job was to destroy them. We were given the ones in the middle of the line.

  As soon as we neared them we could see that they had beefed up their defences. There were now machine guns and other weapons firing directly up at us as we approached. It made it much harder to concentrate on the enemy balloons. I was the last to fire and it afforded me the opportunity of observing their defences. I saw that they had erected sandbags around their winchmen. They could not be hit quite as easily. They also had machine guns there too. They had learned their lessons well. Then I had to concentrate on the balloons as the other two aeroplanes peeled away. Captain Dixon was not making life easy for me and the aircraft was moving up and down too much for me to concentrate my fire. I managed to puncture the balloon but I missed the observer.

  As the captain wheeled away I saw, out of the corner of my eye, German aeroplanes heading in our direction from the east. “Sir, German aeroplanes!” I stood and pointed.

  He nodded and began a slow bank. Once we were heading west I stood on my seat and cocked the Lewis gun. We would be the target for their first attack. There looked to be something different about the leading Albatros. As it came close I could see that the machine gun was no longer on the wing but over the engine and there were two of them. We had been told they were working on a machine gun which fired through the propeller. Was this one of those? Speculation was an idle luxury I could ill afford.

  The first of the four planes began its roaring descent. I saw Captain Dixon glancing nervously over his shoulder. “Fire, Flight Sergeant! He’s almost on us.”

  “Not yet sir. I have to be sure.” I had no idea why the captain was so nervous; the Albatros had not even opened fire yet.

  The machine guns ripped into action when they were a hundred yards away. It was too far to be effective and I saw only one bullet strike our tail; the rest flew harmlessly through the open fuselage. At fifty yards I fired a burst. I struck the propeller and the engine. As the Albatros wheeled away I could see smoke but it was not a fatal wound. The second aeroplane had also fired too early. Our aeroplane was not flying as straight as Captain Burscough would have flown it and that mistake saved us as the machine stitched a line through the wing. I gave a second burst and struck the undercarriage. I saw a wheel fly off and the aeroplane began to fly slightly more erratically as its balance shifted. I took the opportunity of putting another burst into the fuselage and I managed to hit the observer.

  The third aeroplane and the fourth came at us together. They both fired their guns from two sides and lead struck the engine and the wings. I emptied one magazine at one and I quickly changed the magazine. I had just done so when Captain Dixon panicked. He went into a steep climb whilst rolling the aeroplane. It was a good manoeuvre but not when you had a gunner in the front and he was not attached to his seat. I was suddenly upside down and clinging to a Lewis gun which was held in place by a piece of wood. I felt like a trapeze artist at the circus. I thought my arms would be wrenched from my sockets and I was amazed that the gun did not tear away from the aeroplane. I saw the look of horror on the captain’s face. He corrected his roll and my feet found purchase on the seat again.

  We had briefly lost the other two Germans but also our companion aeroplanes. We were isolated and
there were still three enemy aeroplanes which could hurt us. Once I was secure again I lined up on the nearest German. This time he held his fire as did I. When he did open fire he hit the tail which suddenly shredded. I saw pieces fly from our propeller. We yawed to one side and it gave me a perfect shot at no more than forty yards range. I fired a short burst directly into the pilot. His head was struck and I saw the blood and brains spray the observer. The aeroplane went into a vertical dive. I saw the fourth German line us up and then I saw bullets strike him from both sides as our two companion aircraft struck him from both sides. They must have emptied their magazines and hit the fuel tank for the aeroplane exploded in a fireball. The shockwaves made all three of us bounce up and down.

  I reconnected the speaking tube. “Time to go home, sir. He hit our tail and our propeller. I think I have used up all of our luck for today.”

  There was silence and I wondered if the tube had broken. “Sorry. Flight Sergeant. That was my fault. I could have killed you!”

  “We can talk about that when we land sir. I am still in one piece.”

  As tail end Charlie we were the last to land and the other crews were waiting for us. I saw Ted shaking his head at the propeller. It had barely got us home and I was impressed with the captain’s skills for he had landed us without a real tail. He might panic but he could fly. His earlier crash must have really damaged his confidence.

  After he had climbed down he walked over to me. “I am sorry about that. I was convinced they were going to hit us and I forgot that you were just hanging on to the gun.” He looked up at the contraption. “How did you stay on board?”

  “I wasn’t ready to die.”

  He shook his head and walked off with the other two pilots.