by Griff Hosker
Some news to give you, and I think it is good news, is that I am expecting a baby. It is due in the New Year, probably January. Her ladyship has been good about it. I thought she would finish me but she and Lord Burscough seem to have a soft spot for our family. I think that has a lot to do with you. She said she will hold my job open and if mum looks after the baby when it is born then I can return to work.
Mum is overjoyed at the thought and it means I will be living at home for three or four months. It might make it easier on both of them.
Keep the letters coming. They mean more than you can know.
We pray every day that God continues to watch over you. Mum takes some comfort from the fact that flying an aeroplane makes you closer to God. Dad rolls his eyes when she says that but so long as she is happy then what is the harm?
Your big sister,
Sarah.
xxx
So I was to be an uncle. It felt good and I re-read the letter a few times. When I read the others I saw the different sides to things. Our Kath was a little put out by Sarah’s attitude and I could see that she saw herself as something a little better now. She felt she had done well to marry into the middle class and was the wife of a vicar. I don’t know what my brothers would have thought of that!
Mum’s letter was stained with what I assumed were tears. In the letter itself she was putting a brave face on things but I could tell that the empty house was eating into her. From her letter I discovered that Dad had finally retired but his lordship had allowed them to live in the cottage. She was more upset about Bert. She thought her little lad was too young to go to war. She was probably right. She never mentioned Alice and the problems there. She was probably protecting me.
Gordy was even happier than I was. From the moon struck face and the way he kept re reading the letter I assumed it reciprocated his feelings for the widow Mary. We did not know when we would be granted a leave but one thing was certain, Gordy and I would not be on leave together this time. Major Leach had decided that we needed at least three of the flight commanders on the base at all times. When we were granted a leave then it would be in rotation. I had asked for January so that I could be there for the baby. It looked likely that I would be granted it.
The rain gave us respite for another few days and then winter hit. It was heralded by icy winds from the east and then a chilling cold. It meant we could fly once more but we flew in icy conditions. If you forgot your gloves then you could lose fingers. Using the Lewis gun was a nightmare.
I made sure that Lumpy understood the conditions in which we would be flying. I didn’t want to lose him to frostbite. We flew half squadrons. It was safer as we reduced wear and tear on aeroplanes and crews. Out first patrol was largely uneventful. The Loos and Ypres sector seemed to have quietened down. I had heard that we were running out of shells; what the German reason was I had no idea. However I had learned to be suspicious of such things. The Germans were meticulous planners and did nothing without a damned good reason.
The Rolls Royce engine still purred, no matter what the temperature but I was glad for the fur waistcoat and good leather coat I had recently bought. My ears, despite the flying helmet, were still cold. I had misplaced my balaclava. Perhaps if I asked my mother she would knit me another one.
Lumpy was well prepared. He had so many jumpers, gloves and helmets on that he barely fitted in the cockpit. His balaclavas made communication difficult and I had to resort to tapping him on the head.
That particular day we saw a Fokker patrol. There were three of them but they stayed on their side of the lines. We patrolled parallel to each other. They had learned to respect us. We outnumbered them two to one and we were not the Fokker fodder that was the BE 2. No-one wanted to initiate a combat which would be likely to result in men dying for no good reason. I headed back to our airfield. If this was to continue for the next few months it might be boring but I would not lose any more aircrew.
November ended that way. No action but no deaths either. Sergeant Sharp sent me a letter. I had written to him suggesting that he might like to become a pilot. I did not want to lose him as a gunner but I had been encouraged to do so and, while it was still possible, I thought he ought to try.
November 1915
Dear Captain Harsker,
Thank you for your kind letter. I was touched to receive it. I know how busy you must be.
The leg is healing well and I will be fit for active duty again in January. As regards training as a pilot; I am not certain if I would like that but I appreciate your thoughts and your concern. I will wait until I return to active service and then decide.
Yours faithfully,
Chas. Sharp,
Flight Sergeant
It was typical of Charlie that he should be so thankful. I knew he had not had a loving family as I had. The things I took for granted he had never had. I would persuade him to train when he returned. Lumpy Hutton had worked out well. He was not Charlie Sharp but I knew that, eventually, we would be given single seater fighters like the Germans used and then I would need neither a gunner nor an observer. I would have to fly alone then anyway. As the Fokker had shown aeroplane design was improving rapidly.
It was December when we received our first alert. The sector close to us, towards the south, was occupied by the French. Their aeroplanes had been badly handled by the Fokkers and the Hun had gained air superiority.
“Tomorrow, gentlemen, we are on standby. The French sector is forty miles away. We can be there in half an hour. If the French and the British squadrons there strike trouble then we will go to their aid.”
Ted raised his hand, “Colonel, if we are going to help them wouldn’t it be better if we set off to help them before they got in trouble?”
“I can see where you would think that, Lieutenant Thomas, however we know how cunning the Germans are. They may have been mauling the squadrons down there to draw us away and then they could hit our airfield or our lines.”
“Ted is right, sir, we may get down there when it is too late to do anything save pick up the pieces.”
“Nevertheless, those are the orders and we will follow them.”
As we went to the officers’ mess Gordy shook his head. “It’s always the same; some genius at Headquarters who doesn’t know his arse from his elbow comes up with a plan which will only result in our lads getting hurt.”
“We’ll have to make sure we don’t. If we fly higher we can gain ten miles an hour and be there five or ten minutes quicker and we would have height advantage. Remember we all have the extra Lewis now. As the only one who has used it I can tell you it makes all the difference. It is like flying a Fokker, what you see is what you hit. You aim the aeroplane and not the gun.”
“I hope you are right or some poor sods will not see the New Year.”
The telephone line to the front was working and, as we waited by the aeroplanes, we saw Captain Marshall come from the tent and fire the Very pistol. We set off south in two lines of six. I took my flights high while the Major went low. I worked out that we would get there slightly ahead of him but the Germans would see him first. I agreed with Gordy; I was not certain that the Germans would still be there.
Lumpy spotted them in the distance. “Sir, there are loads of them. Little crosses in the distance.”
I saw what he meant. It looked like the two squadrons we had bombed some time ago. The other allied aeroplanes were heading west to avoid the deadly monoplanes. “Arm your weapon.” I raised my arm to tell the others we were going into action and then cocked my Lewis.
I began to dive down. The speed approached a hundred knots as we screamed down from the skies. My plan was simple; I would lead my six aeroplanes through the middle. We would cut a swath through the heart of them and then Major Leach could attack from below. I no longer needed to tell Lumpy when to fire. He had worked that out for himself. We both opened fire at the same time. The first Fokker was easy. He had not seen us and was too busy destroying the BE 2 in front of
him. His plane began to spin out of control and I saw a wave from the pilot of the BE2 as he limped west. A Fokker flew directly at us firing his gun. We had two and we both emptied them as we closed. I braced myself for the impact. He swerved to port. I pulled up the nose and, as I reached stall speed, turned the nose of the aeroplane so that we began to fall from the sky.
I heard Lumpy say, “Bugger me!”
I said quietly, ”Come on old girl do not let me down now.”
The engine fired again and we roared down to attack the Fokker which had swerved to avoid us. He was not expecting the manoeuvre and I saw his shocked face as Hutton, with a new magazine emptied it into him. He died instantly. I saw him slump in the seat. But his aeroplane kept ploughing through the skies like an aerial Flying Dutchman. I looked around for another target but the Fokkers, probably running low on fuel, were heading east. I saw three downed BE 2s and one downed Nieuport but I saw the remnants heading west. Many had been saved. I lifted the nose and gained altitude so that my flights could take station on me. I saw Major Leach doing the same. I counted my birds as they joined me. They were all safe and all of them waved the thumbs up.
Heading home I found myself actually believing that perhaps the planners knew what they were doing. We had trounced the Fokkers and made them flee. We had surprise on our side and we would not have that the next time but, as Christmas approached, I reflected that we had lasted far longer than I had expected. It was now over a month since we had lost anyone and that was a record.
The Germans punished us, or at least they tried to punish us. The weather, over the next few days, was not at its best but we could fly. The colonel decided to send out each flight on patrol. The next flight left half an hour after the first so that, by the time the first was ready to land the third was ready to take its place. Ted later said that made the colonel a witch. I thought it just made him intelligent.
We were the third flight out. We waved to Major Leach and his boys as they passed us. We were not expecting trouble. We had handled the Fokkers badly the previous day and we knew from experience that it took time to refit and repair damaged aeroplanes.
It was Ted and his flight which were slowly looping over the front at a thousand feet. The world of the clouds and the sky looked peaceful. I was wondering if this was a waste of fuel and thinking that an afternoon in the officers’ mess with some beer and whisky might not be more pleasurable. My mental wanderings were stopped when I saw the line of aeroplanes heading west. There were eight AEG 1 bombers; we knew them. Then there were the ten Fokker monoplanes above them. It did not take a genius to work out that they were headed for our airfield. We were outnumbered.
I flew close to Ted. We had not worked out a system of communicating in the air and so I used hand signals. I mimed the bombers and pointed to Ted to take them out. He nodded and waved his hand in acknowledgement. We would find out if he understood when we engaged the enemy. I was also counting on Gordy arriving soon to give us better odds.
I began to climb. I wanted to have the advantage of altitude when we dived into the Fokkers. I knew that the AEG 1 was no match for Ted and his aeroplanes. I hoped that they would stop them before they reached our airfield but at odds of more than three to one I knew that we would, more than likely, be shot down in short order.
I looked astern and saw that my two wingmen were on station.
“Lumpy, this will not be easy. I will be moving around like a flea in a Geordie’s long johns!”
I heard him laugh. “Dinna worry sir. I couldna move if I wanted to. I have more layers than an onion. We’ll be alright.”
With men as stout as Hutton on our side, how could we lose?
The Fokkers were in three waves. There were four in the first, four in the second and two in the rear. I decided to plough through the middle. We had six machine guns and could fire on two sides. I wanted to disrupt their formation.
“Lumpy, I am heading up the middle. Take the one on the right, to starboard. I will take the one directly ahead.”
“Right sir!”
The German aeroplanes concentrated their fire on me. The problem was that they fired too early and they could not see if it was their rounds which struck us. I had the advantage that I knew if I was hitting my enemy. And I did. My bullets struck the engine of the first aeroplane. I passed so close that I could see the pilot struggling to make his Fokker remain in the air. I looked at the next aeroplane in the line. This time they were fearful of firing for their own comrades were close to us. Their hesitation cost them dear. My bullets struck the wing of the Fokker and he took evasive action.
I had emptied my magazine as the last Fokker came into view. He fired a few rounds and then banked. I drew my Luger and I emptied the magazine. He was so close I could see a duelling scar down his right cheek. One of my bullets must have hit him and mortally wounded him for his aeroplane went into a steep dive. I began to climb and bank.
I was feeling elated until I looked behind me. Both Freddy and Johnny had been badly handled. I could see that their wings were riddled with holes. Lieutenant Holt’s bus had smoke coming from the engine while I could see oil trailing behind Carrick’s aeroplane. In the distance I could see Ted finishing off the bombers but of Gordy there was no sign.
“Lumpy, fire the Very pistol. We need to send the other two home and then try to buy them some time.”
“Righto sir.”
From his calm tone you would have thought I had asked him what was for dinner in the mess. The flare arced high above us. I began to bank the aeroplane and saw the two Gunbuses peel away west. As I had expected two Fokkers tried to follow them. We swooped on to the tail of one of them and Hutton fired a burst which must have clipped the propeller for the E1 suddenly pitched and bucked like a bronco. The pilot fought to control it and I turned the aeroplane towards the one firing at Carrick. I saw the Fokker’s bullets hit the engine and the oil began to flood. He was below the FE2 and Jack Laithwaite could not see him. I fired at the Fokker which swerved away to avoid my bullets. I followed him around and continued to fire. He was within my arc. Hutton was firing at the Fokker coming at us obliquely to catch us on our quarter. The magazine empty I watched as the Fokker, trailing smoke, headed east. I saw Hutton changing his magazine and I began a steep climb.
I knew that we had a better rate of climb at altitude and I wanted to drag the Fokkers away from Carrick and Holt. I began to think we had succeeded when I felt bullets striking the underneath of the aeroplane. We could not use the rear Lewis. Hutton would have fallen to his death.
“Lumpy, there is a Fokker underneath us. Can you get him with the Lee Enfield?”
I saw my gunner peering below us. “Not a chance sir, I would have to be a contortionist but I can try something sir. You keep us steady.”
I saw him reach into one of the pockets of his coat and take out a Mills bomb. I had heard of this new hand grenade but never seen one. I would ask later where he got it. I saw him pull the pin and then drop the grenade. The bullets continued to hit us. I dipped the nose and then jerked back to throw off the German’s aim. It must have worked for the bullets stopped striking us and then there was a crack and we were buffeted by the explosion. We were struck by tiny pieces of shrapnel from the grenade but they just punched a couple of tiny holes in the wings. I levelled out and saw the stricken aeroplane tumbling from the sky.
“Well done Lumpy. Now get that magazine changed.”
“Yes sir.”
I changed mine as we flew dangerously straight and level. The explosion and our climb meant that the other Fokkers were some way behind us but, as I looked at my compass, I saw that we were heading east! We were going the wrong way. The fuel gauge was also heading in the wrong direction.
“Hang on I am going to bank and dive. When I level out get ready to fire the rear Lewis.”
“I’ll try sir but it is a tight fit here in the front.”
His layers of clothing, while keeping him warm made him less mobile. That decided me. W
e would hedgehop back to the airfield. That way they could not get below us.
I gave the bus all the power that was available. If I ran out of fuel I would glide. We were still descending when I saw the rear German trenches. As we levelled out, thirty feet above them they began to fire at us. I heard Hutton say, “Cheeky beggars!” I saw another Mills bomb dropped over the side. This time we were travelling so fast that we did not feel the concussion but I knew that the Fokker following behind would. It would buy us a few seconds.
Now I felt the engine labouring. I could not see behind me but I knew that we had been hit. I was losing oil or fluids. The fuel gauge was dipping towards empty as we zipped over No-Man’s Land. When I saw the Tommies waving I knew we had reached our own lines. The question was, where would we land?
“Look for somewhere to land, Hutton. We have been hit and we are running out of fuel.”
“All I can see is trenches and wire, sir. It’ll make a right mess of us if we try and land here.”
“If we run out of fuel we may have no option. Let me know when you see anything vaguely flat.”
Even the roads had been destroyed in the barrage and all that I could see was pock marked with craters. They would be as lethal to us as the Fokkers which had given up the chase now and returned home.
“Sir, straight ahead! I can see a patch of green.”
Even as he said it the engine began to cough and splutter. I too saw the patch of green. It was not as flat as I would have liked but it was the earth and we were going to hit it anyway.
“Brace yourself”
I heard him mumble, “For what we are about to receive…”
The engine cut out and we struck the ground. Without power I had no control over the craft and I just fought the stick and the rudder to avoid obstacles. Hutton and our height meant that I could not see directly in front of the aeroplane.
