Wings Over Persia (British Ace Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  I climbed into the cockpit and the mechanic spun the propeller. I taxied slowly. I did not know this airfield. My wingmen formed up with me. Adams had replaced Barker. I saw that the squadron, all ten of us were ready and I opened the throttle to race down the runway. This would be a short and savage action. We had to stop them and allow the army the chance to bolster their defences. I hoped that Jack would have had the chance to slow down the attack on Ebril. If that fell then Mosul would be cut off from Kirkuk.

  I forced my mind to return to this battle. Jack and the fate of Squadron Leader Barnes would have to wait. I saw the Ninaks diving and using three machine guns to decimate the Kurds and Turks. It was obvious that the Kurds had more heart for the fight. They stayed and fought. I saw uniforms heading north and west. Some of the Turks had had enough. They were going back to safety. It did not mean they were defeated, just that they had had enough for one day. I led my flight towards one Ehrhardt which was still firing. I dropped two bombs and had the satisfaction of watching it blow up in my rear-view mirror. I saw a derelict Ehrhardt; bullets zipped from all around it. I lifted my nose and dropped my last two bombs. Because I dropped them from a slightly higher altitude the shrapnel appeared to have more effect. There would be few survivors.

  I had an easier task now. I flew along the battlefield firing at any one I saw with a weapon. Five hundred rounds later I climbed into the sky to await my squadron. I circled and, one by one, they joined me. No more birds had been damaged and I headed south to Kirkuk. I radioed ahead to tell the airfield that we were on our way. Had we averted disaster? I would need to speak with Flight Lieutenant Cartwright, assuming he too, was not a casualty. I radioed to have Flight Lieutenant Cartwright and Jack waiting to see me in the briefing room.

  It was getting on to dusk when we finally landed. It was not dark enough to give us problems but I knew that my men would be tired and we had the morning patrol. This time we knew that it would not be a peaceful one. As I stepped from the aeroplane I saw that there were just eight Bristols which were parked ready to take off. Another one was being worked on by oil lamp. I counted twelve Ninaks. Jack had the only whole squadron left to us. As weary as I was I knew that, before I could eat I would have to report to Sir John and then interview the survivors from 18 squadron. If I had any time left then I would speak with Jack. I was grateful that I had at least one senior officer that I could rely upon.

  As I headed for the briefing room Sergeant Major Hill met me with a cup of tea. “Here you are sir. Sergeant Major style,” he winked.

  As I sipped it I realised that there was a hefty tot of rum in it. “Thanks, Daddy, I needed this.”

  “Don’t worry sir. We will come through this.”

  I felt better as I entered the room. The tea and Daddy’s optimism did that. Flight Lieutenant Cartwright looked ashen. It was though he had died and someone had dug up his corpse. Jack was smoking his pipe and he shook his head, a warning.

  I took out my pipe and my penknife. I reamed the bowl and tapped it out. I filled it with fresh tobacco and, after sipping my tea, lit the pipe. I waited until it was drawing. I saw Flight Lieutenant Cartwright’s eyes. They were wide and they stared at me. I said, quietly, “What happened?”

  He took a breath. “We were on patrol and we saw the three Halberstadt. Squadron Leader Barnes made the signal for the first two flights to attack.”

  I nodded, “You are certain?”

  “Yes sir. I thought it was a mistake. I remembered your words but he was my senior officer and…”

  “You followed orders and there are others who saw the signal?” I was thinking of Cartwright’s career.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Go on.”

  “We began to catch them almost as soon as they were across the river. They dived to less than forty feet. The Squadron Leader was leading and he had no shot. Suddenly the whole valley was lit up as they ambushed us. They had all sorts of guns: artillery pieces, machine guns and rifles. The Squadron Leader and Pilot Officer Dawkins just exploded. Harrison was damaged and I led the rest up into the air and we headed back across the river. I brought the squadron back.” He shook his head. We didn’t get to fire a shot or drop a bomb!”

  Had that been Paul Ritchie then the guns would have been bombed and the gunners killed. Barnes had paid the price for his failure to command. “Get some sleep. You will be up again tomorrow. I don’t have the luxury of spare buses. I need every one in the air tomorrow.”

  “I can’t lead sir! You were wrong! I don’t have it in me!”

  “You might yet but not tomorrow. I will have Acting Squadron Leader Ritchie lead you. Don’t worry. You will get your revenge.”

  When he had left us Jack said, “A bit of a cock up eh, sir?”

  “We both knew that Barnes was a bad egg. It was my fault for not bringing charges. Ebril?”

  “No armour there, sir, and we beat them back but they will try again. I spoke with Bailey. Kirkuk and Baghdad are under attack too.”

  “Tomorrow you go back to Ebril. I will have Ritchie lead the Bristols and cover Kirkuk. I will go to Mosul.” He nodded. “Ask Paul to pop and see me eh?”

  He left and I looked up at the map. If Count Yuri Fydorervich had still been alive then I would have expected an attack from a different direction the next day. The ground to the north and west of Mosul would not suit armour but I guessed we had destroyed enough of the enemy armour for them to conserve the little that remained. The ground to the east would provide cover for attacking men. There were wrecked vehicles and craters. I began to write a report for Sir John. It was going over the radio but he would be able to read between the lines.

  I was half way through when the door opened and Acting Squadron Leader Paul Ritchie stood there. He looked drawn, “Tough day?”

  He nodded, “I was just talking to Steve Cartwright, sir. You want me to lead the Bristols?”

  “Sit down. It is a difficult job but we both know that Cartwright is in a bad way. He can’t lead. If I had more pilots I would ground him but we need every bus in the air tomorrow and I need every squadron led by someone who can keep their head.”

  “And that is me sir?”

  “It is. I want you to lead the squadron but let me know when Cartwright is ready to lead. I need you back with me.”

  “Sir. And what do I do with the squadron? Go back to Mosul?”

  “No, Paul. I am worried about Kirkuk. Fly to Sulaimaniya and back. Look for any signs of insurgents and take action. Technically the land between here and the border is still Iraq. Any enemy is fair game. I know that Sheikh Mahmud is supporting the rebels but he is playing a clever game. I don’t think there will be any visible rebels in Sulaimaniya. He will be sending them to Ebril and Kirkuk.”

  “What will you do about the Halberstadt sir?”

  “What I won’t do is fall into the trap that Squadron Leader Barnes did. I will bide my time but those three aeroplanes are doomed. Believe me.”

  “I do sir.”

  I finished off my report and I smoked my pipe. I needed Ritchie back with the squadron before my own plan to trap the Halberstadt could go into action. They were a danger. Any aeroplane was a danger but there was too great a risk to follow them over the border. I hoped that an easier flight from Kirkuk to Sulaimaniya might help Cartwright get over his nerves.

  I went to the radio room and handed my report to Marshall. He handed me a typed sheet. “This came in this afternoon sir. It is in code so Sergeant Bailey typed it out.”

  “Thanks.” I headed to the office. This was another job I would have to do before I could head to the mess. I took out the pink folder from the locked desk. This was the first time I had used the code. It took me some time to work it out. Once I had done so I began the laborious task of transcribing the message. I discovered quickly where I had made a mistake and I concentrated on every word. It meant that I didn’t get the full ramifications until I had finished. I read through it.

  The Turks had ten Halberstadt.
That was vital information. There was Intelligence that Kirkuk would come under attack soon. I was relieved that I had given Ritchie the orders I had. However, the end of the message was the most chilling. Count Yuri Fydorervich had survived the attack. He was still at large and was still advising Sheikh Mahmud. The attack which had almost cost Fox and Parr their lives had been a failure and now I knew that there was a cunning puppet master pulling the strings.

  Chapter 13

  My depleted squadron, all nine aeroplanes, left at dawn. I had warned Paul of the problems he might encounter and brought Jack up to speed too. If anything happened to me there would be someone who knew what to do. I had spoken on the radio to Squadron Leader Williams at Mosul. He also had eight aeroplanes which were fit to fly. My two Snipes were still under repair. I ordered Williams to fly to the east of Mosul and I would patrol as far as Faysh Khabur.

  The Squadron Leader had requested more supplies of fuel and ammunition. That meant the Vernons would have to bring them. The presence of such large inviting targets brought more danger. There was rioting in the streets of Mosul. There were enemies within and without. We would have to destroy those outside the town and hope that the small garrison could deal with the dangers within. I scribbled another note for Bailey to send. I made it clear that we had to have fuel and ammunition taken to Mosul by the end of the day.

  I saw the Halberstadts in the distance as we approached Faysh Khabur. The detachment there was under attack. There were five aeroplanes strafing the mud walls. As soon as they saw us they fled across the border. I saw the flashes from the guns at Kahnik. The Count was alive or there was a Turk who had the same sort of mind as he had. I saw that there were large numbers of men trying to attack the walls. It was just a company which held the tiny town. A hundred and odd men could not expect to hold out against artillery and a ground attack. I got on to the radio and contacted Mosul to tell them of the attack. I was told that the detachment had not been in contact for twelve hours. Had they been under attack all night?

  Now that the Turks had attacked I felt justified in crossing the border. I would not pursue the Halberstadt. Instead I led my squadron up to a thousand feet. I wanted an almost vertical attack. Their larger guns would not be able to fire at us and their machine guns would find it harder to hit us. We had attacked enough for me to be confident that the eight pilots who followed me knew what to do. I glanced in my mirror and saw that they were all on station and waiting for me and my two wingmen to attack first. I began my dive.

  Williams and Swanston had been right. There were false guns on the walls but there were real ones too. A barrage of small arms erupted. It is harder to hit an aeroplane diving at you. When it flew horizontally then you could lead it. The Turks were not using tracer and could not see their shot. I did not fire my guns. They would be more useful later. I dropped two bombs and pulled up. My wingmen were with me. I felt the concussion from the explosions. A few seconds later there was another explosion. We had hit ammunition.

  As I levelled out I saw Flight Lieutenant Jackson leading the second flight in. We had breached the walls and damaged some of the guns. Jackson and his flight were going to finish off the rest. By the time they had finished the fort was rubble. My squadron formed up on me and we headed back to Faysh Khabur.

  They were no longer being shelled but I saw that they were being penned in by waves of Kurds and Turks who saw their chance to butcher British soldiers. Their artillery pieces lay wrecked. They were almost defenceless. We could not use our bombs and so I led my squadrons to fly as low as we dared and strafe the attackers. We caught them by surprise and our first pass cut a swathe of death through their ranks. The survivors took shelter in the town. As I passed over I saw that the walls of the fort had been breached. The Turkish artillery had damaged them. I saw more Kurds approaching on horses. As we circled above the town I signalled to Flight Lieutenant Simpkins to take his Snipes and deal with them. They had four bombs each. As they flew off I saw something flashing from the walls of Faysh Khabur. It was a signal. I waggled my wings to show that I had seen the signal and, circling, watched as they began it again. It was short and simple. ‘Out of ammo. Going to break out in fifteen minutes. Need help.’ It was repeated.

  I waggled my wings when they had finished. I radioed Mosul and told them what was going to happen. We would have to blast a route through the town for them. The Kurds would wait for us to leave and then finish off what they had started. I saw, as we circled, that the detachment had seven lorries. I signalled to my two flights to take station inline astern. That way they could all emulate me. Simpkins and his flight were still busy with the Kurds who were trying to join the attack. I looked at my watch. They were coming out in six minutes. I began my bombing run.

  On my first bomb run I had used my two inner bombs. I gambled that if I flew down the road then I could bomb both sides and still leave a clear escape route for the lorries. The danger lay in making a crater in the road. I dropped my bombs forty yards from the gates. I knew that my wingmen would bomb progressively down the road. We still had our machine guns and, as we cleared the town I began to climb and circle. I made the signal for two columns. Normally Squadron Leader Ritchie would have led the other. It fell to Jackson to take on that role.

  Ahead I saw the gates open and we began to dive as the seven lorries raced out. The houses on both sides had been demolished for two hundred yards. That was, largely the extent of the village. I guessed that some of my squadron still had bombs left. That could come in handy on the way back to Mosul. I zoomed over the houses at less than fifty feet and I fired my left-hand Vickers. I was largely firing blind but I wanted to keep down the enemy heads. Five hundred .303 bullets a minute would discourage anyone from lifting their heads. Those that did so would lose them. I pulled up as I neared the fort and it was a good job I had. The commander had booby trapped it with explosives and, as Kurds raced into the headquarters’ building, it exploded. They might have been short of ammunition but they had explosives left.

  I climbed and our two columns took station on either side of the road. I cut the engines a little to conserve fuel and to help us keep pace with the lorries. They were driving flat out. Simpkins’ flight came to join us. They used their guns to scatter the last of the Kurds who lay in their path. We flew elliptical loops once Simpkins joined us. We were able to fly ahead of the column and still cover the rear. I saw Williamson suddenly leave formation and dive. I watched as his last two bombs dropped behind a rock. As I passed it I saw that he had surprised Kurds setting an ambush. The machine gun and small mountain gun lay with the twenty dead and dying tribesman and their horses. It proved to be the last opposition. When I saw the airfield ahead and, aware that we were running out of fuel, we left the column and headed to the field.

  As we came in to land I was aware of firing in the centre of Mosul. There were explosions and the sound of light arms. The Ninaks of Number 7 squadron had not returned yet. They had a longer range than we did. The Senior Sergeant Major came hurrying over to me. “Get them refuelled and rearmed. See if any have damage.”

  “Sir, but we are running short of ammo and if it goes on like this we will run out of fuel.”

  “Then don’t rearm the bombs just one belt of ammo for each aeroplane. That will have to do.” He nodded, “How are the two Snipes?”

  “Their pilots are going to take them up for an engine test sir but you can have them back by this afternoon.”

  “Good.”

  Squadron Leader Williams had the luxury of an adjutant. Barnes should have had one but I guessed he thought he could do without one. I went in to the office. Flight Lieutenant Charlton was older than I was. When he stood to greet me, I saw that he favoured one leg and a stick rested against the desk. His fruit salad showed that he had been decorated. He was a veteran of the Great War. Many such pilots stayed in. He would not rise above the rank of Flight Lieutenant unless he was very lucky.

  “Wing Commander, this is a pleasure. I didn’t get a chance
to say hello when we came through Kirkuk.”

  “Did we serve together?”

  “No sir but John Charlton was my cousin. He told me all about you.”

  I remembered him. He had been a flight observer and he had not survived the war. I nodded. “He was a good man. It was a great loss.” I pointed to his leg, “When did you cop the wound?”

  “Two weeks before the end of the whole shebang. Ground fire. I have to walk with a stick. Still worse for some of the other lads eh sir?”

  “Quite right. Now tell me what is going on here.”

  “Do you mind if I sit, sir.”

  “Of course, I am sorry, I should have realised.”

  He smiled and took out a map. As he spoke he pointed. “No problem sir. Now this is Mosul. The Kurds infiltrated over the past week or so. Colonel Ayre did not realise until it was too late. They have been causing mayhem. And we can’t do a great deal about them from the air.” He jabbed a finger. “They control here and here sir. If those two enclaves join up we are in trouble. And they have cut the telephone wires sir. We only have the radio now for contact.”

  “And Squadron Leader Williams?”

  “He has managed to stop any reinforcements joining them in the city. That is the good news but he radioed not long ago and said he had to return as two of the Ninaks were damaged and they had run out of ammo.”

  “I know we have a problem. I have some Vernons arriving here, probably later today. I know that will give you a headache, watching them overnight but at least you can fight back. I take it all the men are armed?”

  He patted his Webley. “Yes sir and I have a couple of Mills bombs handy too.”

  “Good. Well my chaps and I will grab some food and then I will see what we can do about these two rebel held areas in the town.” I held my hand out, “Give me the map and I will see if there is a way to bomb them.”