1914 British Ace

by Griff Hosker

Poor Ted was beside himself, “How come those lucky buggers get to swan around the German line and don’t even have to fire their guns and we look as though the mice have been at us! There’s no justice!”

  Those words left a sour taste the next day when two of the young fliers failed to return. They had both been in the flight of four and the Germans who had jumped them had been flying Albatros aeroplanes. They had had a disaster. One of them, piloted by Lieutenant Cox, had tried to bank too steeply when the gunner was firing the rear Lewis and the unfortunate gunner had fallen from the aircraft. The Germans had easily destroyed the defenceless aeroplane. As the second one had tried to climb out of trouble, its engine had been hit. It had crash landed in no-man’s land and we did not know the outcome.

  The major had Gordy and me in his office that evening after the meal. “Sit down boys.” I smiled to myself, Gordy was at least ten years older than the major and I was about the same age. He took a bottle of whisky from his drawer and three glasses. He poured us a healthy glass each. I was not a spirit drinker but it would have been rude to refuse. “Cheers!”

  “Cheers.”

  It burned as it went down but I enjoyed the taste. I noticed that the major had emptied his own glass and he refilled it. He gestured with the bottle but we shook our heads, “There’s no getting around it, today was a disaster.” He looked at me. “You lost men on the Yser, Harsker. How did you tell the families of those who died?”

  The memory made me frown a little and I sipped the whisky. “It was different for me sir, I had grown up with most of the lads so I either wrote a letter or, in the case of the brothers, I went to see the mother.”

  Both of them looked surprised. “You had to tell a mother both of her sons were dead?”

  “Yes sir and she was a widow too.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I told the truth but left out the pain the boys had suffered.”

  The major nodded and finished his whisky. “That isn’t the reason I brought you both here. I intend to offer you both a commission. It seems the general thinks highly of us and so we can do this. Your flight, with Captain Dundas, is the best flight in the squadron. I can’t be a baby minder all the time. I need to split the flight up and use each of you as a Flight Commander. You will need to be an officer. The young lads will listen to you. They respect you, I know that. Well?”

  I looked at Gordy who said, “I didn’t become a pilot to be an officer sir but I understand what you are saying. I accept.” He put his hand across the table and they shook.

  “I am honoured that you want me as an officer sir. I accept too.” He shook my hand.

  “We will be getting replacements soon so, for the time being, you two need to take one of the young lieutenants under your wing so to speak and teach them how to be a flier. You are both experienced gunners and that is what this will all be about soon. We will become fighters. Captain Burscough and his squadron of Bristols is a picture of the future. They need what you both have, flying sense. Your new rank and pay grade will begin immediately. I would get the tailor to make you a new uniform each. It will cost you a couple of bob each but it will be worth it.” He stood as did we, “I’d like to thank you both.”

  When we got outside we both kept a straight face and marched back to the sergeant’s mess. Ted was sat, nursing a beer. We sat opposite him. “What did his nibs want?”

  Gordy leaned forward, grabbed Ted’s ears and pulled him forward. He planted a kiss on his forehead. “What the bloody …”

  He was clenching his fists when I said, “He made us officers. We are Second Lieutenants.“ I waved my arm around the mess, “We’ll be in the officer’s mess soon so let’s have one last night here eh? We won’t be flying tomorrow anyway.”

  He actually smiled, “Well done but don’t expect a salute. And as you have more money it’s your shout.” As I got up to go to the bar I heard him say to Gordy. “One thing’s for certain. I am going to become a pilot. I feel like a granddad with these young gunners.”

  Chapter 22

  Private Sharp was delighted. “That’s better sir, a pilot should be an officer.”

  “But you want to be one don’t you?”

  “Yes sir and you have shown us the way.”

  I was still working in overalls despite the new uniform which was being made for me. The uniform and the salutes would not change the man within. I had got where I was by being me. If I changed then it could all crumble.

  Lieutenant Murray was one of the survivors and he was told by the major that he was in my flight. I honestly think he was still in shock after the earlier debacle and he just nodded. His Flight Sergeant, Walter Hibbert, was also new and he, too, appeared to have less confidence than Charlie Sharp. It was a strange situation. With my bus all ship shape I took the three men who would be serving under me for a walk down the French lane towards the small village of Breteuil, a mile or so away. I wanted informality. I would do things my way.

  “We are a team now. We are C Flight. In a few days we will be getting more replacements and then we will have our third member of the flight. I am new to this game so I am going to do it the way I think will work best.” I stopped and looked at them each in turn. “Feel free to ask any questions about why I am doing what I do but I want things done my way.” I stared at Lieutenant Murray. “I do not want to have to write a letter to anyone’s parents. Right?”

  They all nodded soberly. I knew there was a small bar restaurant in the village and I assumed it would be open. It was and there was an empty table outside.

  “Let’s sit here.” A woman came out and gave a perfunctory wave of her cloth at the table, “Monsieur?”

  “Vin rouge si vous plais. Pour quatre.”

  I knew that both my accent and my French were awful but that was all I had learned. I smiled at the three of them. “I just wanted to sit and talk with you off the base. If you don’t like red wine then just nurse it. I am not keen myself but the beer is, frankly, awful.”

  For some reason that made them smile and I saw Lieutenant Murray begin to relax for the first time. The wine came and I paid. I knew they would allow me to run up a bill but I wanted to be able to leave when we needed to. I held up my glass, “Here’s to C Flight,” I paused, “and those absent friends who would love to be raising a glass right now.”

  “C Flight.”

  “Right, let’s get down to basics. Here are my rules. John, you will always follow me and do whatever I do. The new boy will do the same. Walter did you see the young observer fall out of the aircraft?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Well that was nearly me and I hung on so if the worst happens then hang on to the Lewis. I am a big bugger and it held me. Right?” I saw him smile and relax. “But John, when Walter is using the rear gun you have to fly straight and level; even if you are being fired upon. That rear gun is our sting in the tail. Until we get another aeroplane then when we fly as a pair Walter’s job is to watch astern. Charlie here will keep his eye on the front.” I drank some of my wine. “Charlie you have flown combat with me. Any tips for these two?”

  “Yes sir.” He held up a finger as he itemised each point. “Spare magazines, rifle in the cockpit. Fire in short bursts as close as you can get to the enemy.”

  “Good. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes John?”

  “Is it true that you have shot down a number of aeroplanes and balloons?”

  “Yes why?”

  “You only have two and a half on the black board in the office.”

  I smiled. “The rest were when I was a gunner. I have been reinvented. Besides I don’t care who shoots down the bastards so long as we shoot them. I would rather their pilots died than ours and that goes double for you John. A little tip Captain Burscough and I discovered is that, because the Albatros has a gun on the top wing, unless he is attacking from below all you need to do to avoid being hit is to dip your nose a little. He can’t aim at you th
en. That also allows the gunner to fire into the belly of his aircraft.”

  “What if he is below you?”

  “Then you bank and climb. It is a risk but the enemy would have to second guess which direction you will climb. Never repeat the same bank. Keep them guessing. Right. Let’s go through some other little points. Hand signals…”

  The time passed swiftly and they began to question me. I was happy for I wanted them to know my mind. I wanted John to be able to turn when I did and climb at the same time. It would not happen straight away but when we achieved that then we would all have more chance of survival. As we strolled back to the aerodrome I felt much happier. For a few centimes I had learned more about my flight than a week of drills.

  Out first patrol was two days later and I was eager to see how we fared over the trenches. It was a strictly observation patrol. I took us as high as we could manage without having breathing difficulties. The trenches and no-man’s land were quite obvious, even from that altitude. I signalled with my arm and we began a slow descent to a better altitude for observation. As soon as we swooped down we saw the balloons beginning to make their descent. I had no idea about the other sectors but in ours they were wary of our attacks.

  I signalled to John to keep a watch for Germans and I was pleased to see Walter watching our stern. The patrol had been a success already. Lessons had been learned. As we flew along the lines of trenches Charlie marked positions on the map and then sketched new defences. He was a much better and neater draughtsman than I had been. This would be valuable intelligence.

  Suddenly John appeared next to me and pointed astern; there were three German aeroplanes above us. I signalled to return to base. With John tucked in astern I began to climb. We had discovered that we could go marginally faster at higher altitude and it was harder for them to hit us with their wing mounted machine guns. The day that someone invented a machine gun to fire through their propeller we were in trouble. The German aeroplanes were faster and more manoeuvrable. Our only advantage was forward fire power. Once we reached four thousand feet I levelled out and looked behind. The nearest Albatros was less than a hundred yards astern of John. This would be a stern test of his first lessons. Walter was braced against the side of the cockpit. I had told them both that they did not have to fly directly astern when we were under attack. He used that discretion at that moment. As the German came in for his attack John lifted the nose slightly and began to climb. When I saw that I tapped Charlie on the head and he manned our rear Lewis.

  John’s aircraft was going slower but Walter had a clear view of the German whose gun was now facing fresh air. Walter gave a burst and I saw the holes appear in the fuselage. I banked right slightly and also climbed. Charlie fired a burst from his gun. The Germans were now in a narrow channel and were being fired upon by two guns. Their gunners could not fire and the pilots were hampered by the position of their gun. Their superior speed also worked against them as they overtook us. Two magazines were emptied into the three aeroplanes.

  Once they were beyond us their rear guns began to fire. We dived below the guns’ trajectory. Walter and Charlie were in the front with a full magazine each. Their two guns rattled a destructive tattoo and I saw holes and smoke appear from the three aeroplanes. They limped away, now being fired upon by our infantry from the trenches. We had not shot any down but there were three aircraft which would need a lot of work before they flew again.

  Back at the aerodrome the lieutenant and his gunner positively bounced from their aircraft. “Did you see that? Two against three and they ran!”

  I pointed to his wings, “Yes, John but we did not escape unscathed. We have repairs to do but you are right; it was a successful mission.” I turned to Charlie, “Give me your maps and drawings and I’ll take them to the adjutant.”

  I left the three of them congratulating each other as though they had downed the three rather than just winging them. It was a start.

  The major was with Captain Marshall. The major asked, “Well? How did it go?”

  “Better than we could have hoped sir. We were jumped by three Albatros and we damaged them all.”

  “Well done! I shall see if I can do as well this afternoon. Is Hewitt not back yet?”

  “He hadn’t landed when I came over sir.” I handed the maps and the sketches to the captain.

  He nodded approvingly, “These sketches are excellent. They are almost as good as a photograph.”

  I smiled and said slyly, “Yes sir. It’s a shame he is just a private.”

  “You want him made up to Flight Sergeant?” This was the first time I had exercised my authority and I felt Major Brack’s searching gaze upon me.

  “Yes sir, I think he deserves it.”

  He smiled, “Good, so do I. Captain Marshall see to the paperwork. I’ll let you tell him, Lieutenant.”

  As I walked back I reflected that Charlie was a far better observer and mechanic than I was but I knew his skills with a machine gun were not as honed as mine were. I was, by nature, a hunter. It did make us a good team. When I told him of his promotion he was both excited and embarrassed. “Thank you sir. I’ll try to live up to your expectations of me.”

  I shook my head, “Don’t worry, you have earned it.” I smiled at Walter. “And there is a target for you, private. See if you can get promoted as quickly as Charlie here eh?”

  “Yes sir!”

  The replacements arrived the next day and I met Lieutenant Campbell,

  for the first time. The impression I gained of him was not a good one. He reminded me, in his manner, more than a little of Lieutenant Ramsden. In voice and in looks he could have passed for Lord Burscough. After we were introduced I wondered if he would be the grit in the machine which would make it break down.

  The major introduced us as Flight Commanders. It seems none of the new pilots were familiar with either the term of the concept. The major was always quick on the uptake and he explained.

  “We have a reputation, in this squadron, of having a high rate of success combined with a low number of losses. We have devised the flight system to continue that. Each Flight Commander is in charge of three aircraft. They may operate as a flight or in conjunction with another flight. It gives us flexibility. You will all fly when your Flight Commander deems that you are ready.”

  My first warning sign came with the scowl which passed over Lieutenant Campbell’s face. He was not happy. I decided that a trip to the village would not work with this one and so I led him, along with John, to the three aeroplanes. I let Charlie and Walter take his gunner, Private Fletcher, to be given the run down on their duties. I trusted Charlie now. His promotion had enabled me to have a chain of command.

  “How many hours do you have in an F.E.2 Lieutenant Campbell?”

  “Today was my first time so just from Dartford to here. To be honest with you I was rather disappointed. I had hoped for one of the new Bristol Fighters. The Gunbus is too old and slow.”

  I had never heard such an attitude. It was like a cavalryman criticising his own horse. I saw John frown. “I think you will find it a good aeroplane and it certainly has the beating of the Albatros and Aviatik aeroplanes we come up against.”

  “The thing is, I have been told that this squadron does a great number of flights to observe. Quite frankly I want a little more action.” He grinned in what I think he thought was an engaging manner but it left me cold.

  “We are here to win a war, Lieutenant Campbell, not to win glory.” I saw his face fall. “Anyway we have no time to waste in debate you are in C Flight and that means we fly my way. John here flies astern of me and you astern of him….” I gave the same talk I had done in the village but I knew that I was being less considerate and understanding. He had got under my skin.

  When I had finished he looked unhappy, “You mean I can’t attack an enemy without your permission? I have to fly behind Lieutenant Murray here.” He smiled at John, “No offence but I may be a better pilot than you are.”

 
I saw John redden. I had this man’s measure now. “In which case being the last man in the flight is the most important and requires the best pilot. For you protect us from an attack in the rear. Until we got these rear facing Lewis guns we lost too many aeroplanes. Of course that means that you have to fly straight and level even if the enemy are firing at you. Erratic flying will result in the death of your observer and then you.”

  He laughed, “I don’t think I am dependent on my observer.”

  This was getting worse and I felt myself losing my temper. “John, explain to him what happened to Lieutenant Cox and his observer.”

  John had been there and had also been a close friend of the dead pilot. His words were far more powerful than anything I could have said. It appeared to have little effect. “Well, dashed sorry and all that but this Lieutenant Cox sounds like a poor pilot. Believe me I am very good. I was top of my class at flight school. That’s another reason why I can’t understand them sending me here. I am wasted in a Gunbus.”

  I snapped, “Let’s see how you do in a week of patrolling in a line and then we will see. Check your aeroplane. We fly at dawn and we will be observing.”

  I turned and began walking to the office. I didn’t know if we were scheduled to fly the next day but I would press for us to do so. This arrogant young peacock needed his feathers plucking. When I reached the office Captain Marshall had a strange smile on his face. “Problem Lieutenant Harsker?”

  I forced myself to calm down. “It’s that arrogant young prig. He thinks he is too good for a Gunbus. I want to take my flight up at dawn.”

  He laughed, “That is not a problem.” He picked up a file and threw it across. “This is interesting reading. He was the top pilot in the training school but the instructor suggested that he be sent here as he did not like his attitude.”

  “That sounds like a good instructor.”

  The captain nodded, “He is and you know him. It was Captain Dixon. He recommended he work with us here to, as he said in his letter to the major, ‘teach him how to do the job properly’.”