Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  My last call would be on the post office and telephone exchange. As we came over there was no wave from the sentries. Instead I saw them firing. I banked to get a better view. I spied the rebels. They had four vehicles of various sizes and they were using them like armoured cars. The defenders had already shot their tyres out and riddled their radiators with bullets but they were being pushed. I banked and climbed. I held my hand up three times. My squadron knew that meant three Snipes would follow me. I came in low. This would involve precision bombing and the lower I was the more chance I had. Lieutenant Vardy was a good three hundred yards behind me. That way he would see the effect of my bullets and my bombs and be able to take the appropriate action.

  I had four bombs under my wings but I only intended to use one. At sixty feet, I was still in danger of hitting the roofs of some of the buildings but I took that chance. I flew up the main street, above the Post Office. I did not use my machine guns. I needed precision. Bullets zipped into the air but I was travelling at almost a hundred miles an hour. I released one bomb and then pulled on the stick to begin to rise. The bomb exploded and sent a wall of flames into the air as the petrol tanks on the vehicles exploded. As I climbed I saw Vardy come in and add a second bomb. Even as I banked I knew that we had destroyed the attack. That was confirmed when the men at the Post Office waved. The job was not finished but there were more troops in Baghdad than Kirkuk. I was needed in Kirkuk.

  I led my men north and we headed to Kirkuk. I knew that there might have been innocent people who could have been hurt or even killed when I had bombed the square. That was the price they paid for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  The rains had emptied the road north. To the west I saw that the Tigris was already beginning to overflow its banks: Samarra. Tikrit, Al Fathah, all of them had British detachments but the floods would actually help them. They might be cut off but they would be armed and those around them, not. We were twenty miles south of Kirkuk and flying at two hundred feet when I spied the insurgents. They were riding to the east of the road and all of them had guns. There was no reason for them to be there. Twenty armed men constituted a threat to the security of the Tigris valley. I waved my arm and Signalled Lieutenant Ritchie to lead his flight in to attack them.

  The rain meant that the horsemen had their bisht pulled tightly about their heads and the first that they knew of the danger was when Lieutenant Ritchie’s bomb exploded amongst them. The survivors scattered and the rest of the lieutenant’s flight used their Vickers machine guns to destroy them. When the survivors disappeared, we headed on to Kirkuk.

  Each time we arrived I noticed a difference. This time they had more sandbagged positions for the machine guns. There was an air of defiance in the camp. I was greeted with smiles and with confidence. I hoped that the loss of Squadron Leader Harris would not adversely affect the base. “Refuel and rearm the ones that need refuelling.”

  I strode over to the office and Sergeant Major Hale. He was smoking his pipe and sipping tea, “How is it going, sir?”

  “You are doing a marvellous job here, Sarn’t Major. However, I feel that the next few days will test your defences.”

  He nodded, “How so, sir?”

  “We think that the rebels will think the rain is a perfect opportunity for them to attack Kirkuk. Be prepared to be cut off. If you think that the Residence is going to be overrun then get on the radio and we will evacuate.”

  “You think it might come to that, sir?”

  “Possibly. We will not abandon the airfield. If we close this then we will never get it back and we will lose Mosul and the Tigris Valley. I have a squadron of Bristols coming. Once they are here we will be much stronger. I will have the Ninaks, Vernons and the Snipes using this to refuel and re-arm.”

  He smiled, “You want the rebels to think that we have more aeroplanes than we actually do.”

  “I am counting on the fact that, to them, all of our aeroplanes look the same. They won’t look at the squadron identifier. When they look into the air they will just see a Ninak or a Snipe. They will think we have more aeroplanes than we do. I have ordered the squadron leaders to bomb and shoot anything which moves. Now then, what do you need?”

  He smiled, “We are fine sir. I have a good set of lads here and we have made this place stronger than the residency. We will be all right!”

  When we took off I led the squadron east along the road. Here the road was not even close to a valley bottom but the road surface was compacted earth and rock. The rains made it a slick and treacherous surface on which to travel. We flew for almost forty-five minutes before I banked to starboard and headed south and west to return to Baghdad. There was a small British outpost at Sherwana. Guarding a crossing of the river there were just twenty men there. Each time we had come south we had passed over the outpost. The soldiers always waved. The rains had stopped but the skies were still overcast. The Sirwan river had burst its banks. The settlement was inundated. The detachment had taken over an old semi-derelict fort which had a higher position. Bereft of buildings they used tents. As we flew over I saw that the soldiers were waving. The waves were frantic. They needed help. Waggling my wings to show that I understood I had seen their plight I looked over the side of the aeroplane and examined the ground. The village was to the north of the hill fort while to the south lay fields. I led my flight home and I flew at maximum speed.

  It was early afternoon when I landed. I had the mechanics refuel my Snipe and I looked to see what else remained on the field. My pilots and their birds needed rest. The Vernon pilots were fresh. There was one Vernon. It had had engine trouble that morning and had not left with the rest of the squadron. I hurried across the field towards the mechanics. “Can this bus fly?”

  Sergeant Major Maguire was wiping grease from his hands, “Yes sir. It was a blocked fuel line. We have cleared it.”

  “Good, get her refuelled.”

  I ran to the officer’s mess. The crew of the Vernon were sat talking to my recently returned pilots, “Jenkins, Dinsdale. Get your flying gear.”

  “But sir our Vernon is being repaired.”

  “It has been sorted. We are going north to Sherwana to pick up the detachment there. You won’t need your air gunner.”

  “Right sir.”

  I went into the office, “Sergeant Major Davis, get on to Baghdad, tell them the detachment at Sherwana is in trouble. I am going to pull them out.”

  “Sir.” He had been scribbling down the salient points. He looked up. “Sir, how will you land? With the rain, we have had it could be a little naughty.”

  “We will manage.” The two pilots were waiting for me when I emerged. “This could be tricky. There is an area of farmland to the south of the hill fort. I will land first. You follow my line.” I smiled, “Unless, of course, I manage to make a right mess of it and crash. If I do then you will have to choose a better site.”

  “Sir.” They both looked very serious.

  “Now there are twenty men in the detachment. I know that you are only supposed to be able to carry eleven. We take them all.”

  “Sir.”

  Checking that I had my Webley I climbed into the cockpit. I had my Lee Enfield and my German pistol in the cockpit. I waved to the Vernon. I had two grenades in the pockets of my flying coat, I had a feeling that I might need them!

  As we headed north, the rains began again. It made the flight unpleasant. We had to fly lower than I would have liked to keep below cloud cover. In a perfect world, we would not have flown. The detachment would not have asked for help unless things had been desperate. They were a hundred miles from Baghdad. I could not begin to imagine how isolated that must have felt.

  As I neared the village I saw that the ground sloped gently up to the village and the hill fort. The fields were cleared of crops. That was a mercy. I decided to land up hill and then turn. It would mean it would be easier for the laden Vernon to take off. I had to judge the landing finely. I wanted to stop as quickly as I could.
I had flown the Snipe enough times to know its stall speed. I used that knowledge now. I flew at just above stall speed. That, and the slope enabled me to stop easily. The ground was rough but mercifully free of rocks and holes. I taxied up the hill and turned at a flat area. I clambered out and stuck two stones in front of the wheels. I took out my Lee Enfield and two spare magazines as I watched the Vernon come in. I had not seen either of the pilots land before. Squadron Leader Harris had told me that they were all good pilots. This would be a real test of their skills. I saw their wings rise and fall alarmingly. They had a harder task because their wings were bigger and they were landing cross wind. I breathed a sigh of relief when their wheels bumped and then settled to roll along the rough ground towards me.

  They turned and I ran towards them. “Keep your engines going. One of you get on the machine gun and I will need one of you to help me start my engine when we leave.”

  “Right sir. I wasn’t sure we could get this big brute to land and to stop.”

  “You did well. Hopefully the take-off will be as successful.”

  I began to run the half a mile to the hillfort. I could not see its walls, just the Union Flag hanging forlornly from the flag staff. It was as I neared the walls that I heard the firing. I cocked my rifle. It was then that I realised our approach had been hidden from the hill fort by a large rock. The two aircraft were in dead ground. The rebels had not seen us. I was following what must have been the trail from the village to the fields. As I turned a corner I saw two Arabs with rifles. They were twenty feet from me and were firing at the fort, whose walls were still hidden from view. Without even thinking I raised my gun and fired five shots in their direction. They fell and I ran past them, loading another magazine as I did so.

  As I turned the corner I saw that there were forty or fifty insurgents and they were making a determined attempt to take the fort. The fire from the fort was sporadic. I suspected they were running short of ammunition. I now saw that the two men I had shot had been sniping at the walls. I could see the sun helmets of the defenders but they were keeping behind the old stone walls of the fort. The attackers had not noticed my approach. They were a hundred yards from the walls and I was fifty yards from them. I contemplated returning to my aeroplane, taking off and strafing the attackers. The problem with that solution was that I did not know how close to collapse the fort was. The other alternative was a mad one. I smiled to myself. I had been a cavalryman and charged into battle against the Germans. That day I had had good fortune. I prayed I would have it again.

  I took out a grenade and pulled the pin. Holding my rifle in my left hand I ran as close as I could get to the insurgents. When I was thirty feet from them I pulled my arm back and threw the grenade. None were looking in my direction. I hurled myself to the ground as the grenade went off. I stood, even as the last fragments zipped through the air. I grabbed my rifle and yelling, “Charge!” I ran towards the rebels, firing from the hip. They must have thought that I was a relief column because they began to run back towards the village. Time was now of the essence.

  As I neared the gates I shouted, “I am Wing Commander Harsker. Get out of there now and follow me!” I loaded my last magazine and turned to fire at the departing rebels. I did not hit any but my bullets encouraged them to run. They would soon realise I was just one man and seek vengeance.

  The old gates opened and the khaki figures came out. I saw that four were wounded and were supported by their comrades. A sergeant had an officer slung over his shoulders, “Sergeant Jones sir, this is Lieutenant Murphy. What do we do about the dead, sir? We have five lads in there.”

  “I am sorry, sergeant. I gave them a scare but as soon as they realise I am not leading the 21st Lancers they will be all over us. What I can do is bomb it when we leave. They won’t be able to despoil the bodies. Get your men down the slope I have an aeroplane waiting.”

  “Sir.”

  I slung my rifle and took out my German automatic and the grenade. The detachment began to make its way down the slope. A bullet pinged off the rock next to me. I fired two bullets to discourage them and then ran back to the shelter of the rock where I had killed the first two men. Emboldened the insurgents left the shelter of the rocks and hurtled after me. I emptied the magazine and then hurled the grenade as far as I could before running after the soldiers. The first ones had reached the Vernon.

  “Pilot Officer Jenkins, stand by the Snipe. Sergeant, get someone on the Lewis gun and discourage the others.”

  The Vernon would be overloaded. The transport could carry fourteen and they would have to lift off with sixteen. I saw a corporal climb up to the Lewis and begin to fire. I clambered up into the cockpit of the Snipe and put the Lee Enfield down the side. Sopwiths always started well. The engine caught and Jenkins kicked the stones from the wheels. He ran to the Vernon. I needed to get into the air and cover them. I gunned the motor and I soared into the air. The Snipe is very agile and I used that agility to good effect. I rolled and turned, zooming toward the surprised rebels. I cocked and fired the right-hand Vickers. They hurled themselves to the ground. I banked and, as I passed over the gates to the fort, at sixty feet above the ground I dropped two bombs. I needed no bombsight. The huge rock sheltered me from the blast. Stones showered down. I looked in the mirror as I climbed over the rock. The gates had disappeared along with the bodies of the dead soldiers.

  The Vernon was lumbering down the slope. I knew that the two pilots would be working together. It began to rise slowly and so I banked to fly back and discourage the rebels a little more. They had taken cover and fired at me. I saw bodies littering the ground. When I flew over the fort I saw no sign of the khaki bodies. I had entombed them in the stones from the gate. When we had quelled the revolt then they would have a decent burial. They deserved that. This was now a tiny piece of England, far from home.

  I took another pass over the rebels emptying my right-hand Vickers. I did not see the results of my attack but I had achieved my purpose. I had kept their head down. I soon caught up with the labouring Vernon. As she burned off fuel it would get easier. Jenkins and Dinsdale kept it as low as they could in case they had to land in a hurry. I wished we had had a radio for I could have warned the field about the casualties. My radio was coming but the delay might have cost one of the detachment his life. The Vernon made the airfield and I waited until she had landed safely before attempting my own landing.

  Someone had anticipated casualties. There was Doctor McClure and his medical staff on the runway. By the time I had landed they had been whisked away. Sergeant Jones and his men were waiting. They stood to attention. “Sir!”

  “Thank you, sergeant. How is your officer?”

  “Head wound sir, always dodgy. We would just like to say thank you sir. That was above and beyond.” He smiled, “I didn’t know pilots knew how to use a Lee Enfield or a Mills bomb sir.”

  I nodded, “I will let you into a secret sergeant. At the start of the Great War I was a trooper in the Lancashire Yeomanry.”

  His face beamed, “Now is makes sense sir. You are a proper soldier!”

  I don’t think he realised the implied insult and I nodded my thanks at the compliment. “You will be based here until we can get vehicles up to the fort again. I am afraid I made a mess of the gates but those lads of yours have a mausoleum now.”

  “Thank you for that, sir. It didn’t sit well leaving them there to have their bodies messed about with. Johnny Turk is a nasty bugger. I was at Gallipoli sir and I know!”

  “I will get Sergeant Major Davis to sort out some quarters for you.” I pointed. “There is the Erks’ mess and the sergeant’s mess next to it. They will have the kettle on I’ll be bound.”

  Ralph Fox was in the office with the other two squadron leaders and Sergeant Major Davis. They looked concerned. “Problem?”

  Ralph nodded, “Our predictions were accurate. It looks like Kirkuk, Baghdad and Sulaimaniya have all risen in revolt. The resident has decided to abandon Sulaimaniya
. He is heading for Kirkuk.”

  “What about the Sheikh?”

  “Apparently he is saying it is the will of the people and he will not fight against his own people. Pontius Pilate springs to mind, sir,”

  “It doesn’t change what we need to do by much. I will get Squadron Leader Harris to bomb Mosul, Jack, you take Kirkuk and Henry, Sulaimaniya. I will use the Snipes to buzz around Baghdad. We can use the soldiers we ferried back from the fort to bolster our defences and send more supplies up in the morning with Dinsdale and Jenkins. We knew this was coming. At least they can’t send reinforcements from Iran or Turkey. The difficulty lies in the low cloud cover. If Mosul or Sulaimaniya have low cloud then my plans are scuppered. Just do you best and if we can’t bomb Mosul or Sulaimaniya then concentrate on making Kirkuk safe.”

  “Sir.”

  When the officers had left I said, “Sarn’t Major, see if you can get some billets for the army lads. I think they have had a rough day or two.”

  “As have you sir. You need to take it easy. We can’t afford to have you crack, sir.”

  I smiled, “You were in the Great War, Sergeant Major, we both know that this is nowhere near as hard as that.”

  “Aye sir but then we were younger, weren’t we?” he shouted, “Billings, cup of tea for the Wing Commander! I’ll just go and sort out those billets.”

  The tea had the right effect. After I had finished two mugs and signed the daily paperwork I went to the sickbay. Lieutenant Murphy was awake. He had an enormous bandage around his head. Doctor McClure was tending to his men. The Lieutenant said, “Sir, are you Wing Commander Harsker?”

  “Yes Lieutenant. Glad to see you awake. You are in good hands here. Your men are all being looked after.”

  “I thought it was our last stand, sir. We lost the radio two days ago. We were down to ten rounds per man when your squadron flew over. The devils had been attacking for two days and night straight. When you came over they had just retired. I knew that they would attack again.”