by Griff Hosker
I nodded, “We couldn’t see any enemy but I assumed you needed help. What happened to your radio?”
“Sabotaged sir. We had a couple of native types. We thought we could trust them. They killed Corporal Smith, the radio operator and destroyed the radio. If I get my hands on them…”
“We removed that threat from here, Lieutenant. I know that most of the natives are trustworthy but it only takes one. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“The doctor says I will be out of action for a few days.”
“Then you must heed his advice. Your men will be used to defend the airfield. The populace has decided to rise all over the country. I think that what happened at Sherwana will be repeated across Mesopotamia. They are using the muddy roads to take over key crossroads and river crossings. You just get well. There will be plenty for you to do when you recover.”
As I headed back to my quarters Sergeant Major Davis met me. “All the birds will be ready to fly tomorrow sir. A couple of the Erks volunteered to be air gunners in the Ninaks until the replacements are here.”
“And that will be…?”
Davis pointed to the rain filled clouds above our heads, “This lot means that it will be at least a week sir. The Bristols are at Heliopolis. They can fly from there to Ramelah and then here but they have to be assembled first. The rest of the men will be coming over land and the roads…”
“Then we just have to tough it out, Sergeant Major Davis. I appreciate everything that you are doing, you know.”
He looked embarrassed at the praise, “We are all doing out bit sir. It’s out duty, isn’t it?”
Chapter 7
As we had a nightcap in the mess I wondered about the situation in Kirkuk. Mosul had smaller numbers of civilians. Kirkuk had many officers’ and diplomats’ wives. Only Baghdad had more. It was the town I worried about the most. It seemed more vulnerable, somehow.
I sat with my squadron pilots. “Tomorrow we divide into two. Each half will need to do the job of one whole squadron.” I turned to Paul. “Flight Lieutenant Ritchie here will take his half to attack every insurgent within the city. Major Fox has intelligence that there are more rebels flocking to join the revolt from outside the city. I intend to stop their advance and to ensure that the Baghdad road remains open for our chaps who are heading here.”
Pilot Officer Franklin asked, “Sir, what if we hit civilians?”
“You will be attacking those with guns who are trying to do harm to our people. If there are civilians close by then it begs the question, why are they there? If they are close to the men with guns then they are supporting them. This is not a war I would have chosen. I prefer a war with an enemy who wears a different colour uniform. Lieutenant Murphy had men killed by Persians they thought were friends. The League of Nations have given us a job to do and by God we will do it. When you have emptied your guns and dropped all your bombs, return here to refuel and rearm. We fly so long as there is daylight. Do not waste your bombs. If the Snipe in front of you has dealt with the threat then save your bombs for the next target. If Major Fox and Sergeant Major Davis receive word of another threat then we will deal with that. I do not expect much rest over the next few days.”
I saw them take that all in.
“One more thing; on no account should you damage any of their churches. Even if they fire at us from them leave them alone. I doubt that they will use them in that way but we leave them alone. Clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
That night, as I wrote a little more of my letter to Beattie I thought about my words to my pilots. I sympathised with them. They were decent chaps and did not wish to hurt anyone. The Russian Count was deliberately using civilians and the sooner I ridded the world of him the better.
It rained all night but, by the time dawn came, there was a break in the clouds. Sergeant Major Davis told me that reports had been coming in all night of rioting, buildings being attacked and insurrection everywhere. We still had radio communication with the Residence. I had told them to put the Union Flag on every building we held. I intended to attack any armed men who were not in a marked building.
Thirty-five aeroplanes make a racket when they start their engines. We left before dawn although there was a lightening of the sky to the east. The Ninaks would not be back before evening. We would have the luxury of being able to refuel and rearm whenever we chose. As we zipped over the wire I saw that there were men who were approaching the wire. They were less than half a mile from it. I waggled my wings, cocked my left-hand Vickers and dived to attack them. My flight followed in line astern. I did not use bombs as it would give others cover close to our wire. Our machine guns would alert Major Fox and once we had fired I rose and banked to starboard so that I could swing over the road from the west. Looking in my mirror I saw that there were bodies and the rebels had gone to ground, expecting us to return for a second strafing run. I had to stop more rebels from reaching the city. We had to cut off the supply of fanatical young men who were willing to die so readily.
I saw that this part of the land appeared to be peaceful. There were shepherds with their flocks and people working in the muddy fields. However, as we headed east I saw bands of men. Some were in vehicles. That had the Count’s fingerprints all over it. He knew that mobility was a key factor. There were also men riding horses and camels. The muddy ground slowed up the vehicles but not the horses.
We swept down in two lines of four. I dropped two bombs. Flight Lieutenant Ashcroft did the same. I heard machine guns from behind me and, as I climbed, I looked in my mirror and saw that this particular column had been broken up but they were being rallied. The last two aeroplanes in the two columns each dropped two bombs and that was the final nail in the coffin. The survivors fled. I was under no illusions, they would rally and return but it would not be that day.
I led the flight towards the distant road. I did not want to fly all the way to Najaf. The threat lay around Baghdad. What I wanted to was to make certain that there were no more rebels heading to reinforce the attack. I spied a bus. It was heading slowly up the road. I wondered at the folly of civilians travelling through a war zone. What was so important that they had to risk death? When the rifles popped out of the side and they began to fire I realised that I had been drawn into a trap. From the ditches bisht covered warriors rose and also began to fire rifles both ancient and modern. I saw Flight Lieutenant Ashcroft’s Snipe struck by many bullets. He began to smoke. He still had time to drop his last two bombs before banking to port to head back to the airfield.
I had passed the ambush but my wingman for the day, Pilot Officer Adams, had time to drop his bombs. By the time the two flights had passed the bus it was a burning wreck surrounded by charred and broken bodies. Three Snipes had been hit and I waved them back to the airfield. I took the last three to complete our circuit of the city. I was down to two bombs. As far as I knew one other Snipe still had a full bomb load. We hunted the enemy. On our way back, we saw more insurgents but they were in ones and twos. We used our Vickers but we could not guarantee that we had destroyed them all. It was most unsatisfactory. I headed back to the field.
I saw mechanics and riggers swarming around the four aeroplanes which had been damaged. I taxied close to the bowsers and climbed down. They would get to my bus in time. I looked up as I heard the sound of Bentley engines. My Snipes were returning. There were just four of them. Where was the fifth?
When I entered the office Aircraftsman Billings handed me a cup of tea. “Thanks Billings. Just what the doctor ordered. What is the score, Sergeant Major?”
“Not certain, sir.” He picked up a piece of notepaper, “The Resident says that the rebels have made no further gains and they are holding on. We have still to hear from the Ninaks, sir.” He smiled, “I think it is going well.”
I shook my head as I sipped the hot tea, “I have four damaged Snipes and a fifth one missing. It is not going well, Sergeant Major.”
“The Resident is happy, sir and Major
Fox said that your first attack saved us, sir.”
“I hope they are right.”
“And the mail aeroplane has left Basra. The Group Captain will be heading home.”
“Is he…?”
He shook his head, “I had McHale water his drinks sir. He is fine. When he gets back to Blighty he will sort himself out. He was a good bloke sir. It is just this job and this country!”
“Right, I’ll get back to it then.”
He nodded, “Cookie has some corned beef sandwiches, sir. Make sure you have a couple eh?”
I smiled, “Yes Mother!”
Flight Lieutenant Ritchie looked a little drawn. He sucked deeply on a cigarette. “I lost one, sir. Pilot Officer Cook was hit just as he began to dive for a bombing run. He hit a building and …there wasn’t much left sir.”
That told the whole story. It would have been a violent although mercifully quick end. Alive one moment he would have been dead almost instantly. “We are hurting them as much as they are hurting us. There is nothing on the roads. This afternoon I will bring my four aeroplanes to join your five. Where is it hottest?”
“The bazaar sir. They have made it their own fortress. They have machine guns on the buildings which have a flat roof and I think they have some larger calibre weapons. I believe that was what hit Cook, sir. He just went down.”
I could tell he was on the edge, “Grab a sandwich and a cup of tea. We will leave in an hour. I don’t think they will expect that.”
I grabbed a sandwich from the tray proffered by the cook’s assistant. I could still taste cordite and fuel but I needed to eat something. Aircraftman Waring was examining my bus. “Any problems Waring?”
He pointed to the holes in the wings from the bullets and the shrapnel, “These’ll need work sir but I reckon you can get up this afternoon.”
“Good man. What is the mood like?”
“Oh, we will beat these buggers, sir. They are fine when it comes to sneaking up in the dark but they can’t stand up to a Lee Enfield with a bayonet at the end. We’ll get through this, sir. Although why anyone wants to die for this godforsaken hole I have no idea!” He waved a hand, “The Sergeant Major thinks you can get nine aeroplanes up this afternoon sir but they will need some serious work tonight.”
“Thanks Waring. You chaps are doing a sterling job.”
I climbed, an hour later, into the cockpit. We had lost one of our number and that had saddened the squadron. However, it had also made them keen for revenge. I had instructed the squadron to head for the bazaar. We would clear it of insurgents. I might be reprimanded but I intended to bomb every inch of it. We would then move out and machine gun anyone with a gun. They would rue the day they had threatened us.
With nine aeroplanes, we flew in three lines of three. I had told my pilots exactly what to do. The first flight would drop their bombs on the east end of the bazaar. The second flight in the middle and the last flight on the west end of the bazaar. We would then sweep the place with our Vickers before splitting up to seek out any more pockets of resistance. The twelve twenty-five-pound bombs ripped through the buildings and the defenders at the east end of the bazaar. I heard the next twelve bombs as they took out the middle and the last ones must have hit explosives for the whole bazaar seemed to light up like a barrage before an offensive. I climbed and the squadron flew over the bazaar. It would need rebuilding. No one fired at us and I took that as a sign that we had done what we intended.
This time our flight across the city brought no bullets. Instead we were greeted by khaki waves. I kept the Snipes in the air for two hours. We flew low looking for insurgents. When we began to get low on fuel we returned to the field. I saw that the Ninaks had returned too. I allowed the other eight Snipes to land before me. I saw that there had been damage to the bomber but they were all intact. I would have just one letter to write to Cook’s family. I couldn’t remember if he was married. Ritchie would know.
Henry and Jack were waiting for me. “I see you didn’t lose any. That is good news.”
“It was a tough one though, sir. They seemed to be prepared for aeroplanes. They had guns set up to fire at us on the outskirts of both towns. It was a good job we had Kirkuk to use as a refuelling and rearming field. I think we have broken their backs.”
“Yes, I think I agree with you. Just to be certain take all the buses you can tomorrow and fly over both towns again. I will get Harris to do the same over Mosul.”
The inevitable tea was waiting for me as I entered. “How are things here?”
“Easier now sir. We had no attacks this afternoon and we repaired some of the damage. I had radioed Kirkuk sir and informed Squadron Leader Harris that the mail transport is due here tomorrow afternoon. He is flying down tonight.”
I had forgotten that I was losing one of my squadron leaders. “Get in touch with all of the residencies, Sergeant Major and ask what they need.”
“Sir.”
I was in the mess when Arthur Harris entered. I signalled for the mess sergeant to bring him a drink. He sat next to me. “I am sorry to be leaving you like this, sir. The job is half finished.”
“But you have done more than enough, Arthur. I am grateful for what you have done. They obviously need you to repeat in India what you have done here.” He nodded. “Is Mosul quiet?”
“They were waiting for us but those new bomb sights we devised worked a treat. I have asked my number two to fly over the city tomorrow but I don’t anticipate much opposition. The garrison commander said it was quieter.”
He took the drink and raised his glass. I raised mine, “Bottoms up!”
He smacked his lips in appreciation. “I think if we had delayed in our response it might have been different but I think the prompt action we took worked.”
Ralph Fox appeared, “May I join you, sirs?”
“Of course. Did we lose any men today?”
“No sir, we were lucky. Your Snipes machine gunned the assault force and that discouraged the rest. Those were their best men.” He reached into his tunic and took out a piece of paper. He handed it to me. It was Russian. I looked up and he nodded. “We found at least three others as well as two with German papers. They were not Arabs. They were dressed in turbans and wearing a bisht but they were blonde Russians and Germans. That was how we knew they were their best men. They had good weapons and explosives. They had been sent to get to the airfield. Your mysterious Count has long tentacles!”
“His time will come, Ralph.”
Arthur smiled as he finished his drink and waved the steward over, “I would like to be here to see him get his come uppance. From what you have told us, sir, he is a threat which needs to be removed.”
“And we will.”
The next day was almost an anti-climax. I led my eight airworthy Snipes and we crisscrossed Baghdad and the roads which led to it. The main activity we saw was the recovery and burial of bodies. The bazaar would need a complete rebuild. I was both relieved and pleased to see that we had not damaged any of their mosques. That might have tipped the balance and created more rebels than we had destroyed. It would have roused those who had not participated in the general unrest.
We were about to turn and head for home when I saw the Vimy heading towards the field. That would be the mail and Arthur’s ride to India. It was still on the ground when my squadron landed. I had spoken to the pilots the last time they had brought mail. On that occasion, they had spent the night. The unrest meant that they would push on to Basra and spend the night there. I walked over to speak to Arthur before he left.
“Well good luck, Squadron Leader. It is a small service and I daresay that we will meet again at some point.”
He shook my hand, “And I look forward to that posting too, sir. Good luck here.”
I watched him take off and then headed for the office. Sergeant Major Davis said, “There is a whole sack load of mail here sir. Most of it is for you! I will get the tea organized.”
I shook my head, “First I wil
l have a shower and get the smell of aeroplane fuel out of my nose. Then I shall fill my pipe, have a cup of tea and then begin this most arduous of tasks. If you would sort out the paperwork into urgent and can wait, that would be appreciated.”
Depressingly, when I returned, the pile of urgent paperwork was higher than the other. It was not all bad news. As well as the squadron of Bristols there was another squadron of Vernons on their way. In addition, we had been promised another squadron of Ninaks. They would be based at Mosul. Engineers were being sent from Egypt to build the new airfield there. Reading between the lines the situation in Egypt had now been resolved. Squadron Leader Jenkins would have a much easier time. A new squadron leader was coming to replace Arthur and there was an Air Vice Marshall who would run, not only the airfield but all air and land operations in Mesopotamia. We now had someone to coordinate the military and that was not before time.
I wondered how Sir John Salmond would view the loss of Sulaimaniya. I was not certain that we could have done anything to prevent its abandonment. What I did know was that it brought the Count closer to me. We would not have to cross into Iran. I was clutching at straws to find any good news. The paperwork took all afternoon to dissect and organize. At least Sir John would have his own staff who would be able to deal with those issues and I could get back to my wing.
The next day I had every available aeroplane patrolling the skies over Kirkuk, Mosul and Baghdad. I knew that there were places now under rebel control but the Tigris Valley and the capital were safe and I thought that most important of my priorities. At dusk the Bristols flew in with the news that their convoy was just a little way behind them. Squadron Leader Barnes was another veteran of the Great War. I had met him before. In those days he had been a headstrong young pilot who was determined to be an ace. It had been towards the end of the war.
“Damned funny country eh sir? I mean I thought it was all desert but the bally roads were like seas of mud.”
