Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  When I spied the town of Faysh Khabur I began to turn. I had binoculars and I peered at the Turkish border stronghold. I saw the Turkish flag and guns. Mercifully they did not fire. Had they done so then it would have meant that war had begun and we were not ready for that; not yet. I could see no bridge over the Tigris. That meant nothing for they had animals and they could swim it. What I didn’t see was evidence of tents and an armed camp. That worried me. Either the intelligence we had was wrong or they were gathering somewhere else. I flew for a further ten miles before turning and heading south.

  As I flew east I saw, to my port side high uninhabited mountains. They would be perfect cover for rebels. I noticed that the high ground mirrored the Tigris. If I was going to attack that would be the direction I would use. It meant an attacker could head for Ebril or Kirkuk if Mosul was too heavily defended. There were too many things I did not know. I had kept glancing in the mirror on the journey south and every aeroplane appeared to be in formation. That was good. As we approached the field I saw that Squadron Leader Williams’ Ninaks had arrived. The fact that he had landed there rather than at Mosul spoke well. Had he gone directly to Mosul I might have thought we had another Squadron Leader Barnes.

  I landed and parked my aeroplane. Sergeant Major Shaw appeared and saluted. “All the kites are ready for tomorrow, sir.”

  “Good. We saw no action today. Just wear and tear.” I pointed to the other DH 9A’s. “They will be gone tomorrow.”

  “I know sir. Their crews have just arrived too. I think they are going to push on and try to make Mosul before dark. Rather them than us sir. And your radio has arrived. Sergeant Bailey said you wanted him to fit it?”

  “With your help, of course, Sergeant Major. You know where to put it for the weight and he knows the best place for the reception.”

  He nodded, “Bill is a good lad. Young for his rank but I don’t hold that against him sir. He knows his stuff. All them wires!” He shook his head, “All I need is a hammer and a spanner!”

  Sergeant Major Shaw was old fashioned and there was nothing wrong with that. The aeroplanes we flew were, essentially the same ones we had had at the start of the Great War. By the time I reached Sergeant Major Hill’s office I had come up with a plan. I saw that would have to wait when I entered. Squadron Leader Barnes was deep in conversation with Squadron Leader Williams.

  Sergeant Major Hill pointedly stood, “Good flight sir?”

  I nodded, “It certainly was.” I turned to the new squadron leader. “I am Wing Commander Harsker and you must be Squadron Leader Williams.”

  He saluted, “Yes sir. Squadron Leader Barnes was just telling me that he had to set up an airfield and he was giving me some advice.”

  I saw the smug look on the Squadron Leader’s face. “Every airfield presents its own problems. I have just flown over yours. The airfield is a good one but you are less than thirty miles from Turkey and the Turks are keen to have Mosul.”

  “Yes sir, Sir John told me in Baghdad.”

  “Well get yourself cleaned up and we will have a spot of tea in the mess. Sergeant Major have McIlroy arrange it and invite Squadron Leader Thomson too. It will be a good chance to get to know one another.”

  “Sir.”

  “And have Williams and Swanston come to see me eh?” I turned to Squadron Leader Barnes, “Your chaps did well today. Flight Lieutenant Cartwright will have learned from the challenge.”

  The squadron leader seemed unimpressed and he just nodded and said, “See you in the bar then David?”

  Squadron Leader Williams said, “Seems a nice chap. Very helpful sir. Do you know he is distantly related to someone in the Royal Family?”

  I saw Sergeant Major Hill roll his eyes, “I’ll go and sort out the tea sir and find those two chaps for you.”

  “Yes, Squadron Leader but it doesn’t mean much out here, does it?” We were alone and I was able to speak. “Look, David, isn’t it?” He nodded. “I was not joking about being out on a limb. The Kurds do not have a lot of technology but they are fierce fighters. The Turks never completely conquered them and they don’t know when to give up. You and your boys will need to be able to get your buses in the air really quickly. Your ground crews will need to keep guns by them all the time. Use your radio to send for help and do not be proud. We are a thin blue line here and we are all that stand between Turkey and Baghdad.”

  “Don’t worry about me sir. I know the dangers. Sir John put the fear of God into me.”

  I had more confidence in him than the brash Barnes and he left the office as Williams and Swanston appeared with Sergeant Major Hill.

  “Right lads, I want you to choose four good men. Take a lorry and when the lorries head north with the Ninaks’ fitters go with them. “Sergeant Major write out orders. I want you to stay the night and then tomorrow drive to the border. There is a place call Faysh Khabur. I need you to discover as much as you can about the town opposite. There will be a detachment in the town. Ask them but use your eyes.”

  “You want us to nip over, sir?”

  “It is tempting but we daren’t risk it. Just see what you can from the town. Head back when you are done. Whatever information you can gather will be vital.”

  Sergeant Major Hill had been busy writing and he handed them two pieces of paper. “Here is a chit for a lorry and here are your orders. If you would just sign it sir.” I scribbled my signature. The two sergeants left. It was as though I had asked them to do some meaningless errand. I wanted more men like them and less like Barnes.

  I went to have a shower. I was hot and I needed to change into clean clothes. When I had shaved and felt clean once more I dressed and headed for the mess. I knocked on Paul Ritchie’s door. “Pop along to the mess. We are having tea and the other squadron leaders will be there.”

  “Are you certain, sir?”

  “Of course. You know Jack. They won’t bite.”

  “Right sir.” He did not sound happy.

  Mess Sergeant Robson had done a good job. It was a proper tea. He had found spicy chutney from somewhere and that was on the cheese sandwiches. It was a Muslim country and so there was no ham but he had corned beef and mustard sandwiches and he had even baked scones. Jack grinned, “Proper tea party sir! Damned civilised!”

  Williams and Ritchie also seemed happy but Barnes had a scowl on his face. I had come to realise that my arrival had upset his world.

  After the tea was poured and they began to eat their sandwiches I started to speak. “We need some standing orders and procedures. David, I want you to put half a flight up every morning at first light. Call it the dawn patrol if you like. You have five hours’ endurance. We will arrive at noon and that will give your lads chance to stand down. At three you send the other half of your flight up. That way we have the area between Turkey and Mosul covered during daylight hours.”

  He nodded and continued eating.

  Barnes said, “Isn’t that going to be a bit predictable sir? I mean they will know where we are.”

  “That is right. We will be in the air and preventing them from attacking. It is not like the Great War when you were worried about a Jasta jumping you. They have, so far as we know, no aeroplanes. They never had many and their pilots, according to Intelligence were fairly poor. If I am worried about anything it is that they will attack at night.” I nodded to David. “You need to keep in close touch with the army detachments. It will be in both your interests.”

  Ritchie asked, “Will we be bringing three squadrons over from Kirkuk every day?”

  “Good question, Paul, just the first day. That will be the day after tomorrow.”

  “We have a day off then sir?” Squadron Leader Barnes had been listening. That was a good thing.

  “You mean tomorrow?” He nodded. “No. You and the chaps who didn’t fly today need to fly with us. We fly the same way on every patrol. You need to see how we did it.” I turned to Flight Lieutenant Ritchie. “How were they today?”

  “Couldn’t
fault them sir. When they were out of position it was only for a moment sir. They will be fine.”

  “So, Squadron Leader Williams, you leave tomorrow whenever it suits you. We will leave at 0900 again.”

  It was a more confident Wing which took off the next morning. Almost all of us had done this before. Acting Squadron Leader Ritchie was back in formation. Perhaps because we had done it once before I was able to identify more. As we passed Abu Wajnam, just a few miles from Mosul I noticed that there were a few more men in the village than there had been. That did not worry me. The waves did. They all waved as though we were liberators. From their dress, they were Kurds. I was suspicious. The same thing happened at Ain Zalah. By the time we reached Faysh Khabur every village which had had men had waved. The ones without men had not. I saw Williams and Swanston. They were looking at Kahnik.

  I risked flying as close to the river as I could get. The Tigris carried on north but there was a smaller river which fed into the Tigris. That formed the border. It made the hill fort a stronghold. The Turkish flag fluttered and I saw field pieces. They were ancient but they would easily be able to fire at Faysh Khabur. I knew from the reports I had read that it was only defended by a company of Indian troops. There were more guns than there had been the previous day. The offensive was imminent.

  When we headed south I took us further towards the high ground. I saw defiles and gullies. They criss crossed the hills. Inaccessible to vehicles, the mounted Kurds could use them to strike swiftly into the hinterland. Mosul could be cut off. That was the Turk’s first objective. They had believed it was theirs by right and did not constitute part of Iraq. Of course, they would take and keep whatever they could of their former empire.

  Sergeant Bailey was waiting with a message for me when we landed. I knew it was urgent. “Sir, this came from Baghdad. The Air Vice Marshall was insistent you get it immediately.”

  I gestured to the Snipe when he handed it to me. “The day after tomorrow you can fit the radio. I will stand down for the day.”

  “Right sir. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “And I have a message for Baghdad. I will read this and come directly over.”

  It was not coded. Sir John had intelligence that the Turks and the Kurds would begin their attack within the next forty-eight hours. That almost made my message redundant. I was merely going to confirm it with my suspicions. I read further on and discovered more bad news. There was a suspicion that they had some aeroplanes. It could not be confirmed. I went to the radio room and began writing on the pad which was there. I handed it to Sergeant Bailey. “Let me know when the Air Vice Marshall has read it.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Once in my quarters I took off my tunic and shirt. I could not be bothered to shower and so I had, what my dad would have called, a ‘good swill’. That done I lit my pipe and took out the map. This was like a game of chess. I was trying to anticipate a move from the enemy. There was no bridge close to Faysh Khabur. That meant they had to cross further east. The more I looked at the high ground the more sense it made. If the Turks and the Kurds had made an unholy alliance then they would try to join up. Neither trusted the other. That mistrust worked in our favour.

  There was a knock at the door. It was McIlroy. He had a grin on his face. “Sergeant Major Hill apologises for not being in the office sir, he was sorting out the mail. Here is one from Mrs. Harsker!”

  “Thank you, McIlroy. I think this deserves a drink to accompany it. Just shut the door, will you? I want to read this and be undisturbed.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I got myself a whisky and filled my pipe before sitting down to read the letter.

  L’Haut Ferme

  Bill,

  This place is idyllic. Of course, you got out of all the hard work of painting and the like! Only kidding. I enjoyed it and the children were marvellous. I have found a local electrician and plumber. Actually, Madame Bartiaux found them. That means they are reliable and reasonable.

  I don’t know when I will get this letter to you. It will have to wait until we get to England and then I will have to find a way to get it sent to you. Minor problems.

  The children’s French is coming on well. They have both taken to it like ducks to water. Mine is improving but I know when I have made a gaffe! They hide their smiles behind their hands. I decided that the children and I would clear the garden. You can do the digging when you get home. Have you any idea when that will be? We miss you. The children asked me the other day if you will always be abroad. It almost broke my heart.

  Perhaps we can come out to you. They would be able to pick up another language that way. It is just a thought but if you are not home in six months then we are coming out.

  I noticed that the pen had changed.

  As you can probably tell we are now home. The weather was lovely in France and it has not stopped raining since we got home. Squadron Leader Power called by this afternoon and said he could send the letter, if it was finished, there is a new mail service. This is not finished, not by a long chalk, but I want you to have something. Please find enclosed a couple of photographs I had taken of the children in France. Just so you don’t forget us.

  Love you

  Beattie.

  xxx

  I shook the envelope and there were two photographs of the children at the farm. I read the letter three more times. The last thing I wanted was for them to come out. This was a dangerous world. I finished my drink and then dressed. I had four months to get a leave. That was incentive enough. If I had to I would fight the Turks and Kurds on my own!

  We all had mail and there was a happy atmosphere in the mess that night. A letter from home lifted the spirits. I showed the photographs to Jack. He had no children yet. I was not certain that his wife could actually have children. It was not the sort of thing one asked. The fact that he looked so happy when I showed my children made me think that he had not given up on the hope that he might have some one day.

  Inevitably we spoke of the patrol we had taken and Sir John’s message. “Perhaps it is a good thing we will have three squadrons in the air tomorrow eh, sir? If they tried to come over we would be mob handed! We could catch them with their trousers down.”

  “Perhaps but I am still worried about those mysterious aeroplanes which have just appeared. That has all the hallmarks of the Count.”

  “He is dead sir, remember?”

  “He could have made those plans weeks ago. It could be a trick and that is the worst, not knowing,”

  “Williams and Swanston will be back today, sir.”

  I tapped my pipe out and began to fill it. “You are right and those two have common sense. They can sniff out danger.”

  As we headed north, the next day, I reflected that the formation worked. Of course, we had not used it in combat but it had the advantage of giving us aerial cover from an enemy who did possess aeroplanes whilst also allowing us to bomb in waves and see the results of our bombing. The men I had seen the previous day were missing and that was ominous. We did pass the lorry with our men returning south. They might have noticed something on the journey. When we reached the border, I flew further north and east along the river. I saw bridges. I had suspected that there must be bridges but now I had it confirmed. The British detachments at the two bridges we saw looked woefully inadequate. The only thing in their favour appeared to be that they had a lorry each with a machine gun mounted upon it. They could flee. In this kind of terrain that might be the best option.

  When we reached the high ground, I risked flying lower. It looked different. I signalled to my wingmen to keep formation and I dropped to thirty feet above the ground. It was risky but I was looking for something. I saw many tracks and piles of animal dung. A large body of men on either horses or camels had passed this way recently. The question was, were they moving east or west? I could not determine that from the air but the question nagged at me all the way home.

  Williams and Swanston were waiting for me. “Well?�
��

  “That fort, sir, it’s a front.”

  “A front, Sergeant?”

  “Half of the so-called guns were just metal barrels. We watched it for a good three hours. Most of the sentries didn’t move. If I was a betting man I would say that there were a handful of men inside the fort.”

  “I believe you. There were men in the towns you passed on the way up were they there when you came south?”

  “Funny you should say that sir. What we did notice was a load of horse shit, sir. It wasn’t there when we went north, at least not in the same quantities.”

  “Thanks, you lads have done well. Have the day off tomorrow. I think that, in the next day or so, we could find ourselves knee deep in trouble.”

  “Aye sir, you might be right but we can handle it.”

  I returned to the radio room and wrote out another message for Sir John. Sergeant Bailey had yet to go off duty. He said, “He hasn’t received your first message yet, sir.”

  “Thanks. Have me woken any time the message comes in.”

  “Sir.”

  As I went back to my room it felt as though we were teetering on a precipice.

  Chapter 12

  I had a Wing briefing the next morning. Every pilot and gunner was there. I needed to lay out, quite clearly, what were the rules for this action.

  “Gentlemen. Today we begin our patrols. This will be the last time we all go out together. After today we will be sending up a squadron at a time. All of the rest will be on standby. If there is daylight then every pilot will be in flying gear and ready to fly. Unless I give the order, no one will cross the border into Turkey! Is that clear?” There were many nods. “That is as much for your safety as anything. God knows what the Kurds would do to a pilot or a gunner if they got their hands on them. So far, up here in Mosul, we have not had to fire our weapons or drop our bombs. That will not last. Good luck. I will let the squadron leaders know the rota when we land.”