by Griff Hosker
“Come on Caesar, a little bit more please!”
It might have been my imagination but I felt the aeroplane move a little faster. The two fighters, seemingly intertwined, now seemed to be just a mile or so away. Carstairs was doing his best but he was wasting bullets. He was firing when he should have allowed his gunner to do so. He could have side slipped out of the German’s sight but he seemed intent on making the hit himself.
Suddenly I saw the Gunbus judder. We were closing rapidly and I saw the gunner slump in the front cockpit. The German then did the Immelmann Turn. Carstairs had never seen it. He would be confused. He had no rear gunner and was on his own. I had to watch helpless as Oberlieutenant Kirmaier dropped down to the rear of the Gunbus and emptied a magazine at the engine. The Rolls Royce is a fine engine but it was demolished by the steel jacketed parabellums. It went into a vertical dive and smashed into the ground. The only saving grace was that Carstairs would have felt nothing. He had his noble death!
“Right Lumpy, let’s get this bastard!”
“I’m with you, sir!”
The German had not seen us and began to head east. I was not thinking about honour and fair play. I was going to shoot this arrogant German aristocrat; even if we were shot down. I owed that to a young man who might have become a great pilot.
I climbed to get above him. He had superior speed and appeared to be getting away from us. I just needed patience. When I reached eight thousand feet I put the stick down. We began to pick up speed and gained on him.
“Sir, I don’t want to worry you but I see a German airfield ahead.”
“What’s the matter Hutton? Do you want to live forever?”
“No sir, but my mum has promised me socks for my next birthday!”
We were now less than five hundred feet behind him and I dipped the nose a little more. He was slowing, preparing for a landing. Suddenly he was less than a hundred feet ahead.
“Now sir?”
“Now Lumpy!”
The chatter of the Lewis shredded his tail. I saw him look around in horror. He could not move left or right as he had no rudder and he showed what a good pilot he was by trying to climb. Hutton kept on firing and then shouted, “Jam!”
I side slipped and anticipated his next move which was a dive. My bullets hit his undercarriage and then he flew the engine into the line of .303 bullets. I saw the propeller stop. I raised the nose and emptied the magazine. I saw the bullets strike him but the magazine ran out before he was dead. We were overtaking him and I drew my Luger. Drawing level I looked directly at him and aimed the Luger. I began to fire. My first bullet struck his shoulder and he fell forward. The Fokker began an even steeper dive.
Suddenly the air was filled with lead as the Germans fired at us. “Sir, he is finished, can we go home now?”
I felt weary, “Yes Lumpy.” A thought struck me. “Any grenades?”
“Always!”
“Then let us leave them a little present.”
I changed my magazine and banked. We had been heading east. As we zoomed down the airfield I fired at the line of Fokkers and Halberstadts. I saw the two steel eggs get thrown over the side and then Hutton fired his Lewis. I heard the crump as the grenades went off and, as we soared west I glanced over and saw that we had hit four aeroplanes and there were soldiers gathered around the men we had hit. Carstairs had been avenged.
It was a glorious dawn which broke behind us but I was not in a celebratory mood. I felt that I had failed young Jamie. I had started to understand him but the German intervention had sent him on this self destructive course.
I heard Hutton’s voice in my ear. “Sir, we have company.” He held up his mirror. I could see four or five biplanes pursuing us. I checked my fuel gauge. I had just enough fuel to reach home. If I had flown more conservatively on my way east I might have had a reserve.
“We can’t climb. Let’s see how low we can go.”
“Righto, sir. I’ll see if I can collect some eggs on the way back!”
I smiled. Hutton was irrepressible. The sound of his voice always cheered me up.
I dipped the nose just as we came over the German trenches. They were standing to but we took them by surprise. I suspect they thought that we were one of their own. They just stared as we zoomed across their lines. Hutton kept the mirror held out so that he could follow the enemy’s progress. We went slower when he stood on the rear Lewis and he knew, as well as any, that we needed to gain speed and conserve fuel.
“Here they come, sir.”
I saw him struggling to turn around and man the rear Lewis. The leading German fired a few bullets just to get the range. As he did so the ground in front of us erupted in small arms fire as the Tommies fired at the Fokkers trying to catch us. As Sergeant Hutton cocked the Lewis he shouted, “Good lad!” He looked at me. “They have hit one and the others are heading home.”
We were so low that I could see the faces and waving arms of the South Africans. I waggled my wings and waved at them. Hutton was waving as though he was George the Fifth at a royal parade. As we touched down we were almost flying on fumes but we were alive and we were back.
Chapter 12
There was no question of my leading a patrol that day. My Gunbus needed attention. Senior Flight Sergeant McKay gave me a shake of his head as he walked around the bullet ridden front. “One of these days Captain Harsker, there will be too many holes in you never mind yon aeroplane.”
Archie and Gordy strode over to me. The fact that we had returned alone spoke volumes. Gordy cocked his head to one side. I shook mine, “He did his best but he was outfoxed. That was a good pilot he was facing.”
“Did you get him?”
“I chased him back to his lines and shot him down but I don’t know if I killed the bastard. It was the one with the red zig zag stripe running down the side.”
“You found their airfield then?”
“Yes sir. It looks, from the number of aeroplanes, as though there are two squadrons there. Hutton damaged a couple with Mills bombs and the Tommies shot down one that was chasing us home.”
“Right. We will strike while the iron is hot.” He shouted, “Sergeant Richardson, I want all of the aeroplanes fitting with bombs.”
“You will need me to lead you there sir.”
“Are you sure? You have no aeroplane.”
I pointed to the Avro we used for training; it was regularly serviced and the sergeants who wanted to be pilots had lessons in it. Charlie Sharp had been the last one to do so but I knew it was a good, if slow and ponderous, aeroplane. “So long as you don’t mind going there slowly I think I can lead you.”
“Good show. Get yourselves something to eat. It will take time to arm the Gunbuses.”
“Sergeant Hutton, get some food. We are going up in the Avro. You better rig a Lewis up when you have eaten.”
“Right sir.”
I was alone in the Officer’s Mess. Bates rushed along. “Captain Harsker. It doesn’t do to go flying on an empty stomach.” He wagged an admonishing finger at me. Turning around he saw the orderlies cleaning up. “I’ll get you something.” He pointed to one of them. “You, whatever your name is, get the Captain a cup of tea, two sugars and milk in second. Chop, chop!”
The surprised orderly nodded and raced off. “You can’t get the staff you know. Now you sit here and I won’t be two ticks!”
I lit my pipe as I waited. The two German squadrons would be going nowhere. The crashed and damaged Fokkers meant they would have an airfield to clear. I had plenty of time for a late breakfast.
The orderly brought my tea and said, sotto voce, “He’s a bit of a whirlwind is your Mr Bates, sir. Even Sergeant Cole is polite to him.”
“Yes he is a force of nature. I am glad he is on our side.”
Bates did not suffer fools gladly. The tea was just as I liked it and all the more welcome for my having waited for it. I was on my second cup when the miraculous Mr Bates arrived with a tray. He deposited a plate with a
mountain of food: ham, three eggs, Cumberland sausage, Black Pudding and devilled kidneys. He then placed another plate with a mountain of toast. “I’ll go and get the butter. What would you prefer Captain; marmalade or jam?”
To be honest I normally took the nearest, “Er, marmalade.”
“Right sir.” He reappeared and flourished the butter and the marmalade. “I shall have to get some decent marmalade, sir. This has barely any peel in it. It is more like an orange jam.” He stood back. “Enjoy sir and I will lay out a fresh uniform for you.”
I paused with a forkful of Cumberland sausage and ham. “That won’t be necessary, Bates, Sergeant Hutton and I are going up again after this.”
He shook his head, “Dear me, sir. You are put upon are you not?” He toddled off shaking his head. It is funny but Bates and Hutton between them induced a state of equilibrium in me. I felt refreshed already and I realised that I had put the death of Carstairs to the back of my mind.
It was some time since I had flown the Avro. It felt strange to be in an aeroplane with a propeller in front of me. The riggers had put the Lewis so that, by leaning, Hutton could fire to the front, the rear and to the right. It was more restricted than the Gunbus but I hoped we would not be needed to fight.
McKay had a mechanic to turn the propeller. The engine sounded noisier and less smooth than the Rolls Royce but it was a good aeroplane. I waited until Archie waved and then we rolled down the airfield. It felt nose heavy as I pulled back on the yoke. I began to climb. It seemed to take forever but at least the Avro had a greater ceiling. If we had to we could climb above the Fokkers.
There appeared to be little action on the ground. As we passed Delville Woods I saw the South Africans digging in. Beyond them we saw the Germans creating trenches in, as yet, unsullied soil. We had the same endurance as the Gunbus and I was not worried about fuel. Our slow speed meant that the squadron could even take their time over the target. Major Leach was leading my flight. I wondered how they would view the change in leadership.
I saw the German field ahead and I waggled my wings. I turned and shouted, “Lumpy wave to show the major where the field is.”
A moment later he shouted, “He has seen the signal sir. They are attacking now.”
Of course Lieutenant Giggs had bombed before but the others might be finding it a strange experience. I spiralled up to get out of the way. I could have headed for home but that was not my way and I wanted to see my flight and my squadron in action.
The guns placed by the Germans began to open fire. They had heavy machine guns mounted in sand bagged emplacements on either side of the field. These were the 7.92mm guns. They also had some ancient 15cm artillery pieces and these, while they made a great deal of noise did little damage. You would have to be extremely unlucky to be shot down by one of those. Especially at the low altitude the major was using. The machine guns, on the other hand had converging fire. The later Gunbuses would face a fierce fire.
My flight had the easiest of bombing runs. The Germans were still manning their weapons and I saw all of the bombs strike aeroplanes and emplacements. Then it was Charlie Sharp and his flight. Their bombs compounded the damage done by C flight. When Ted and B Flight zoomed down they were able to target the headquarters and other buildings. His flight also suffered the first casualties. Lieutenant Carrick was hit. I saw the smoke pouring from his engine. He banked and began to limp west. He would not make our lines. I just hoped he could get close to Delville Woods. Perhaps the South Africans might be able to help.
When Gordy and his flight dropped down to finish the work of the squadron he flew into a maelstrom of metal. I saw his gunner slump forward after he had thrown two of his bombs. He had the smallest flight now and that meant the Germans could concentrate their fire.
Major Leach saw the danger and he led my flight to strafe the gun emplacements. Perhaps he should have done so earlier for the anti aircraft fire ceased but I saw Lieutenant Charlton holding his shoulder and Lieutenant Swan’s gunner looked to have been hit. The squadron began to head west. I stayed high to watch them. Some of them were leaking oil while others appeared to have suffered engine damage.
Lieutenant Morley fell further and further back. I could see him looking for somewhere to land. I saw, ahead, Lieutenant McCormack’s crashed bus beyond Delville Woods and was relieved that he had made the South African lines. Lieutenant Morley would have no such luck. “Lumpy, get ready on the Lewis; we are going down to help them.”
“Righto sir.”
I thought Morley and his damaged Gunbus was going to make the woods but the engine finally cut out and he slammed into the ground just forty yards from the German trenches. We were diving now and I banked to come across the trenches and allow Hutton to fire to the right. I drew my Luger. Our crashed compatriots were firing with their service revolvers but the Germans were using rifles and machine guns. The Rolls Royce engine afforded some protection but soon the infantry would swarm over the Gunbus to capture the crew.
Hutton fired as soon as he could. I was flying at thirty feet. I was not even sure how much clearance I had beneath my wheels. I aimed the Luger at an officer who was directing fire. I hit his helmet and he fell to the floor not injured but shocked. I kept firing. We needed their heads down. Hutton’s withering fire had bought Morley and his gunner time. They sprinted for the woods and the safety of the South African lines.
I began to bank. “Do you have a Mills bomb?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Then when I fly over destroy the Gunbus.”
The Germans were already swarming out of their trenches to pursue the two fleeing crew. The two young men were fit and had a start. The Germans failed to notice us for we were no longer firing. Lumpy could not miss the crashed bus and, as we soared and banked west, the grenade exploded. The fuel tank erupted and the eager Germans were all destroyed. Morley and his gunner waved as they trotted into the protection of the wood.
“Let’s go home, Sergeant.”
“Aye sir,” he shouted. “I reckon we have earned our rum ration today!”
The Avro had served us well but I would not trade it for my Gunbus. Gordy was waiting for me. “Are they safe?”
I nodded, “They made it to the South African lines. How about the wounded?”
He shook his head. “Two of the gunners died. There are three with wounds. Doc Brennan thinks he can fix them up here. Archie is standing us down tomorrow. I can’t see those two squadrons being able to do anything.” He hesitated, “Thanks for going after Jamie. I appreciate it. He had potential. If he had gone to an ordinary school which didn’t fill his head with heroic nonsense he would have survived.”
“It was quick but you know, Gordy, the one I feel sorry for is his gunner. The poor sod hero worshipped Jamie and he died needlessly.”
“We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded, “I had to have a serious talk with Freddie and Johnny some time ago. They seem to have taken it to heart. Their heads are screwed on now.”
For once I did not have a report to make and I headed for my quarters. Bates was bouncing around like a spinning top. “I have run your bath sir and there is a large whisky but I have the most wonderful news, sir! You have letters from home and from the perfume all three are from ladies!”
He was even more delighted than I was, “Thank you Bates.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “And thank you for the breakfast this morning it was delicious and thoughtful of you.”
He seemed embarrassed, “Sir, that is my job and I am just pleased to serve you. Now get into the bath while it is still hot.”
I laid the three letters out in the order I would read them. I had known who they were from as soon as he had said three. I would read mum’s first, then Sarah’s and finally, save the best until last, Beatrice’s. I forced myself to luxuriate in the bath and sip my whisky slowly. I knew we might not get more mail for weeks. I would be able to read and re-read them to my heart’s content. I washed the
war away. After I had dried myself Bates helped me to dress.
“Would it be impertinent of me to ask who they are from sir?”
“Of course not, Bates. This one is from my mother. I am the eldest boy now and I know she frets about me. This one is from my sister, Sarah; from her I will get the truth no matter what little white lies my mother tells me. And this one is from my young lady, a nurse who cared for me when I was wounded.”
He clapped his hands together and giggled, “I just knew it! Now I shall get your laundry done and I will make sure you have no interruptions until dinner.”
I lay on the bed and opened my mother’s letter.
Burscough July 1st 1916
My Dearest Son,
I hope God continues to watch over you. When our Alice told me you had been wounded I thought the worst. I was more than relieved when Lady Burscough said how well you looked.
Your father was proud as Punch when the King himself gave you your medal. We cut the photograph from the newspaper and put it in a nice frame. You look so handsome in your uniform.
Alice also told us that you have met a nice girl, a nurse. I hope she is nice, Bill because there are some hussies down there. Alice seems to think she is a good girl but I will hold judgement until I have seen her. I am still not happy about our Alice living in London. It is a sinful place. I only let her go because her ladyship persuaded me.
Your father should be retired but they need him with the horses. Most of them men have joined up, there is just Cedric left at the Big House and he is getting fed up with the comments of some of the people in the village. It is a shame. I wish you were all home. These Germans are evil using gas and killing civilians. We have heard that they have been bombing London! I have Alice to worry about now.
Well I shall go now. Little Billy has just woken up. Please, our Bill, continue to write. Just because you have a young lady is no reason to forget your own family.
