Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  “I think they are up to something. All the intelligence we have is that the Kurds and the Turks are joining forces and are ready to attack us. The question is when and where? We haven’t got enough ground troops and so we have to be the cavalry and the artillery. We have to find them and stop them before they even get to Mosul.”

  “And the airfield at Mosul, sir?”

  “A squadron of Ninaks will be here tomorrow sometime. It will take time for them to orientate themselves but we will have forces close to the border. They have the harder task.”

  Squadron Leader Barnes said, “So are you staying here sir or moving on to Mosul? I mean you will have a shorter flight time to the front from Mosul.”

  I smiled, “Oh, no, we will be staying here. We can also cover Ebril, Sulaimaniya and Baghdad from here. You are stuck with us I am afraid.” From the look on his face he was not happy to be sharing his base.

  My pilots all began to wander into the mess. I was pleased to see that they had on smart uniforms. I saw Squadron Leader Barnes take it in. Then he looked back at us and finally he looked down at himself. He downed his drink, “Well sir, I just wanted to say hello. I will pop off and get changed eh?”

  My pilots’ faces showed that they were surprised at Barnes’ attire. Jack’s men came in next. They too were in uniform and not flying gear. I swallowed off the whisky. Jack said, quietly, “It can happen sir. I mean when you are on your own then sometimes standards slip.”

  “Thin end of the wedge, Jack; you start to become slipshod in the air and that leads to deaths.” I stood to go to the bar. Squadron Leader Barnes’ pilots entered. Some were in flying gear. As I was standing they saluted and the room was silent. I smiled, “Thank you gentlemen, I am Wing Commander Harsker and I will be based here for a while.” I allowed that to sink in. “Some of you have forgotten that you are officers and gentlemen. I will overlook it this once.”

  Some of the ones in flying gear looked confused but when the others in flying gear left they cottoned on and followed suit. I turned to Jack. “I will see you later. I want to check up on the other Ninaks.”

  As I left I saw the pilots all getting to know one another. The standards I wanted would be made clear by my pilots and Jack’s. The problem lay in the Squadron Leader. He appeared to be sound but I had detected weakness already. I returned to the office. “Sergeant Major Hill who is in charge of the radio?”

  “That would be Sergeant Bailey sir. He is in the radio room now.” He understood the implied question. “Knows his stuff sir. A whizz with anything like that. I am an old-fashioned soldier sir but Bill is young and picks it up easily.”

  “Thanks, Sarn’t Major. I think tomorrow afternoon, when we have come back from patrol, that you and I will have a wander around the field. We will sharpen things up.”

  He nodded, “You met Ramsden then sir?”

  “I did and the pilots now know that flying gear is not permitted in the mess.”

  He looked relieved and he smiled, “It will be a pleasure sir. I will work out a tour!”

  “And could you give some thought to a briefing room. It would be handy to have somewhere to talk to the squadron leaders and brief the flight commanders. We could put maps on the wall and the like.”

  “Leave it with me, sir.”

  I went into the radio room. There was a sergeant, a corporal and an Erk. They were fiddling on with some valves and wires on a table. They snapped to attention when I entered, “At ease.” They sat. I saw that they were all young. Sergeant Bailey looked to be no more than twenty-one years old. That was young for his rank and showed how good he was. “A couple of things: a radio for my Snipe will be arriving with the squadron of Ninaks who are due here in the next couple of days. Sergeant Bailey, I want you to fit it.”

  “Sir.”

  “Secondly I need to know of any important messages immediately. That means you wake me if it is the middle of the night.”

  “Right sir.” Sergeant Bailey looked uncomfortable. “Er sir we don’t keep a radio watch overnight.”

  “There are just three of you?”

  “Four sir, Marshall is getting a brew in. The Squadron Leader doesn’t think it is necessary.”

  “Well I do.” I stroked my chin. “I will get you another Erk. Sergeant Bailey, you find one you think you can train up. When I have time, we will decide which one of your other lads becomes Corporal. I want this manned twenty-four hours a day but I want you on duty during the day, Sergeant Bailey. You are in charge and you decide the rota. While I am here then I get the messages, right Sergeant?”

  “Sir.”

  “And the reason I want you on the radio during the day is because my Snipe, Flight Lieutenant Ritchie and Squadron Leader Thomson’s DH 9A will be the only three with radios. Things could get a little hot up here soon and I will need a reliable team on the radio. What you boys do could and will save lives.”

  “Yes sir.” Sergeant Bailey said, “Sir we have always been willing to work around the clock. I know that messages come in at night.”

  I smiled, “Excellent then we are all singing from the same hymn sheet… now.”

  That evening, at dinner, I could see that word had gotten around. The sergeant steward I had met when I had flown back from the raid greeted me when I entered. He said quietly, “Sorry about Ramsden, sir. I have put him on a fizzer.”

  I nodded, “Sergeant, if you had done your job and ensured that the stewards all knew the standards that were expected then you would not have needed to do so.”

  He glanced behind me. I was aware that Squadron Leader Barnes had entered, “Yes sir. Quite right, sir. Won’t happen again, sir.”

  I knew that Squadron Leader Barnes was trying to make amends for his gaffe. He went out of his way to be as formal as possible. I saw Jack trying to hide his grin. I hoped that the Squadron Leader would transfer that diligence to the air. I had walked around his Bristols before dinner. The Sergeant Major Second Class who was in command, Sergeant Major Shaw, looked uncomfortable as I examined his buses. There had been just two riggers and a mechanic with him.

  “Which of these will be available in the morning, Sergeant Major?”

  “All of them sir.”

  I had poked three of my fingers through a hole in the wing of one. “I am guessing that there will be others like this one?”

  “Yes sir, but the Squadron Leader doesn’t mind so long as they get in the air.”

  I had turned and glowered at him. “From now on no aeroplane leaves the field with damage of any kind. How many Bristols will be airworthy tomorrow?”

  “Five, sir.”

  “That is better.”

  I found Sergeant Major Davis and, with clipboard in hand we began a tour. Normally such tours of inspection would be announced. We caught out many men officers and Erks alike. It was not just minor things like uniform infractions but smoking close to fuel, not having side arms, rubbish left in dangerous places, food left where rodents could be attracted. Eight men were put on charges and Sergeant Major Hill was not a happy man.

  “I am sorry about this, sir.”

  I looked at him, “We both know this is not your fault. Hopefully we have nipped the laxity in the bud. Make a list and you can begin to tighten the ship tomorrow.”

  “Yes sir.” He nodded, “Enjoy dinner eh sir?”

  As we began to eat I was silent. I was wondering what other weakness lay in Squadron Leader Barnes. More than that what about the Ninaks which would be arriving later? What about Squadron Leader Williams? I didn’t know him. I knew that I would have to spend at least two days at Mosul. I made a decision as I ate the spicy soup that I would have to make Paul Ritchie temporary squadron leader. He could handle it. It might not be permanent but the experience would be good for him and show on his service record.

  Squadron Leader Barnes asked, “Everything all right sir? The soup not to your liking?”

  I smiled, “No, Robert, I am just thinking about the other squadron which will be arriving.
Four squadrons will take some handling.”

  “I am happy to help sir, if I can.”

  He was ambitious. “Well Jack here is my deputy but I appreciate the offer. Tomorrow will be our easiest day. We will fly close to the border. We will practise low flying in formation and then come back. By then Squadron Leader Williams should have arrived.”

  “Low flying in formation sir? We stay together? Isn’t that a waste of aeroplanes. I mean we have over thirty aeroplanes. We could cover a wider area.”

  “Until we can all fly as one we stay together. When squadrons operate on their own then I need to know how they will perform. I know number 5 and number 12 squadrons. Yours is the unknown factor.”

  I had been blunter than I had meant to be. He looked surprised, “Mine sir? They are all good pilots. You can rely on us!”

  I smiled, “That remains to be seen. That was good soup. I look forward to the rest of the meal.”

  I had set doubt in the Squadron Leader’s mind. I had looked at his service record and discovered that he had, largely, been in squadrons that operated alone. Sometimes that was a good thing but if he had learned the wrong things from his own leaders then that was a danger.

  When we had finished dessert, I lit my pipe and used the spare cutlery to demonstrate to the squadron leader how we would fly. Jack knew already. He had helped me to devise this system. I didn’t know if it would be too unwieldy to fly. The only way was to try it out.

  “We fly in lines of four. I want each subsequent flight to be forty feet above the one below and a hundred feet back. My squadron will be the lowest of the three. Barnes your chaps will be to our port and your lowest flight will be fifty feet above my top one. Jack will do the same to starboard. You will all keep a hundred feet between flights.”

  I saw him calculating. “There will be four hundred feet between our lowest aeroplane and our highest.”

  “Exactly; now I don’t think they have aeroplanes but if they do then we increase the altitude of your flight and Jack’s to two hundred feet above mine.”

  “You will be bait.” He was a bright man.

  “Sort of. I intend to skirt Mosul by flying to the west and then heading north to fly along the border before returning to the east of Mosul. We will be leaving at 0900 hours. That gives you an hour to brief your pilots.”

  He looked surprised, “An hour to brief them, sir?”

  “I will be having one of my Snipes above everyone so that I can have an idea of how well you all fly. We need to use this time of peace to learn how to fly as one. When Squadron Leader Williams gets here we will modify our formation a little more.”

  He rose, “In that case, sir, I had better retire. I am guessing we have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Indeed, we do.”

  I saw that most of his pilots followed him. Half of mine had already retired. Jack said, “I’ll be off.”

  I waved Flight Lieutenant Ritchie over, “Paul, can I have a word?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  He sat down and took out his pipe. I pushed my tobacco over, “Try this. I was given it by a tobacco exporter. It is quite nice. Very aromatic and not too heavy.”

  “Thank you, sir.” After scraping out his pipe, he took some out and sniffed it before rolling it in the palm of his hand and then filled it. I waited until he had it going before I spoke.

  “I have a little job for you tomorrow. I want you to take off last. I want you fifty feet above the highest aeroplane.”

  He nodded, “Nice smoke sir.”

  “I want you to see which aeroplanes are not in position. Take a pencil and notepad with you and write down the numbers of those buses that are not in formation or are slow to react.”

  He frowned, “Problem sir?”

  “I don’t know. We have never tried a three-squadron formation before. This is just an experiment. It may not work.”

  He looked relieved, “Righto sir.”

  “And I would like you to be acting squadron leader.”

  “Me sir?”

  “You are my number two and I am aware that I may have other duties. It will only be temporary I am afraid but the pay will come in handy and it will go on your service record.”

  “If you think I can do it sir.”

  I smiled, “With your eyes closed.”

  Chapter 11

  Next morning, after breakfast, I went to see Sergeant Major Hill before I went to check my bus. I draped my flying coat, goggles and hat over the back of a chair. I had Sergeant Major Hill begin the paperwork for Ritchie’s promotion.

  Sergeant Bailey heard me and came in with a piece of paper. “This came in this morning, sir. The Ninaks are on their way up. They should be here by the middle of the afternoon. I have seen Sergeant Major Hill and I had an aircraftsman who should do. We will have round the clock radio sir.”

  “Good man, appreciate it.”

  Sergeant Major Hill smiled, “I see you have made a start sir.” Just then I heard raised voices from the airfield. He gave me a wry smile, “And I think it has continued, sir.” He picked up his sun helmet and swagger stick. If you don’t mind sir, I think a stroll around the field is in order. Ginger the chaps up.”

  “Certainly, Sergeant Major.”

  I just had my hat on and I regretted not bringing my sun helmet. I would have to get used to that. I saw a red-faced Squadron Leader Barnes tearing a strip from Sergeant Major Shaw.

  I said, mildly as I approached, “A problem, Squadron Leader?”

  “Yes sir, this fool of a mechanic told me that you said he had to ground any buses with damage.”

  “Well done Sergeant Major, you were listening.”

  “But my bus has holes in the wings! You mean I can’t fly either?”

  “No aeroplane with damage leaves the ground. We cannot afford to lose aeroplanes and we certainly cannot afford to lose pilots.”

  “But.”

  Sergeant Major Hill said, “Sergeant Major Shaw, if I might have a word with you?” Daddy Hill would have made a fine diplomat. He was protecting his squadron leader in case he said anything untoward.

  “Squadron Leader what you should have done yesterday, instead of racing to the mess for a drink was to have your air crews working on your buses to make them airworthy. You did not because that is not your way. You have been lucky hitherto. We cannot rely upon that luck continuing. I want you to have your second in command lead the squadron today. It will be good practice. Hopefully your crews will have the buses ready for tomorrow but remember, Squadron Leader, your air crews now have to service three squadrons not one.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it. Then as he turned to go away he said, “My family is connected, Wing Commander.”

  I laughed, “Excellent! Then I can expect some juicy stories in the mess. When I served with Lord Burscough I heard plenty I can tell you. If you would send your number two to see me when he is ready.”

  Sergeant Major Shaw came over, “We will get them all ready for tomorrow sir. Daddy had a word with me. He is right. We have been a bit lax of late. It won’t happen again sir.”

  “And you know you have three squadrons to service?”

  He nodded, “I’ll give the lads a good kick up the backside. They won’t want to face Daddy Hill’s wrath sir!”

  Flight Lieutenant Cartwright came over to me. He looked nervous. “Sir, you want to see me?”

  I nodded and pointed to Paul Ritchie who was busy checking the Snipes. “That is Acting Squadron Leader Ritchie. Yesterday he was my number two and a Flight Lieutenant. He has shown me that he can lead a squadron. Today you have a chance. I want you to lead your squadron. It might be just two flights but it is your chance. If anything happened to Squadron Leader Barnes then you would have to lead.”

  “Sir, Squadron Leader Barnes is a legend.”

  We were standing next to his Bristol. I put three fingers through one of the holes, “And even legends can get shot down. I have had three crashes. I am lucky I walked away from them al
l. Now you know what to do today?”

  “Keep fifty feet above your last flight and a hundred feet behind.”

  “Good. Now we should have an easy time of it today but be ready in case something unexpected happens. You command. Acting Squadron Leader Ritchie will be above you. He is my sheepdog.”

  He smiled, “Yes sir. I’ll give it a go.”

  “Good man. Take-off in thirty-five minutes. Go around your chaps and ginger them up eh?”

  I went to my Snipe. A good pilot always checked their own bus. I knew that my rank would afford me the closest attention but I had been a mechanic myself and I liked to check things. I checked my watch. There was ten minutes to go. I donned my flying coat and flying helmet and climbed up into the Snipe. With luck, I would soon have a radio. I knew that there would be a knock-on effect in terms of storage and weight but it would be worth it. I could always trim the aeroplane. Once my engine was running I had the chocks removed and taxied to be ready to take off. The runway was wide enough for four Snipes to take off at the same time but I did not want to risk a collision. We took off in twos and then made wide circles over Kirkuk until the rest of the squadron had joined me. Once we were all in formation I checked in my mirrors and over my shoulders. The Bristols and Ninaks were behind and above me like camouflaged ladders.

  We had a hundred miles to fly to Mosul and then another twenty or so to the border. We would not be running on empty when we returned but we would not have a great deal left in our tanks. The border town was Kahnik across the river from the Iraqi town of Faysh Khabur. I was mindful of Sir John’s words and I did not wish to stray over the border and spark an incident. Once I saw the town I would turn and head home. I kept the Tigris to starboard and the main road to port. The ground over which we flew undulated. It took concentration to hold altitude. A hundred feet was probably too low but I wanted to see if the Turks or the Kurds had infiltrated Iraq. That was easier said than done for the Kurds lived in both countries. I was looking for that which appeared out of the ordinary. I ignored the shepherds. I had no doubt that they would be spying for the Kurds in Turkey but they were not the threat. Horsemen, riders on camels and donkeys, these were the ones I was watching for. I was seeking gatherings of men outside of the towns. The places we passed like Ain Zalah were just tiny collections of huts. None would have large numbers. I did not see huge numbers of men nor did I see rifles. That, in itself, was worrying. These tribesmen all had a weapon. Some of them dated back to the Napoleonic war but they all prized their weapons. Where were they?