by Griff Hosker
Beattie (now that you have finally started to use it)
xxx
I was still reading it, for the tenth time, when the gong went for dinner. I put the letters in my drawer. I had to stay alive for all of them.
Chapter 11
We managed just one patrol before we were given our specific orders for photographs. The squadron headed east. We had not received our replacements yet. It was not the pilots which were causing the problem but the gunners. We heard that a request had been sent to the Machine Gun Battalions for volunteers to transfer. We headed towards Cambrai. Archie had been ordered to fly a patrol along our lines to Arras. It was a relatively safe assignment. We immediately saw more activity behind the British lines. There were horse drawn vehicles and guns being moved and brown snakes moving into support trenches behind the front lines.
The German aeroplanes were also curious. We were higher than the Gunbuses and we saw eighteen dots in the distance. I waggled my wings to attract the attention of the others. I pointed up. We needed height. I knew that eventually the Germans would cotton on to our tactic but it was early days and we might just get away with it. Once again I thanked the designers who had made such a small aeroplane and yet one which had so much power.
Archie had the squadron in one long line. It gave maximum protection and made the move into our defensive circle much easier. When we were three thousand feet above the Gunbuses I took us into a lazy circle. If the Germans had any sense they would turn back rather than risk a mauling. Of course, if they were the new German fighters then they would relish the opportunity of giving us the mauling. The trouble was the only difference in the shape of the fighters, old and new was the extra Spandau. By the time you saw the armament your gunner could be dead.
The fact that the Germans came on told me that they were confident and they hadn’t seen us. I watched as Archie led the fifteen aeroplanes into the defensive circle. I saw that Peter Dunston was now the last pilot in Charlie’s flight and his gunner stood on the rear Lewis. He was the one responsible for closing the stable door. Archie had done all that he could. If the Germans were going to observe our movements they would have to come through us.
When I was certain that they had not seen us I led my three aeroplanes in a steep dive to pass along their line. These were the old Fokkers with a single machine gun and no observer. They were faster than the Gunbus but we had their measure. The trouble was there were just three of us.
The gunners of the squadron sent a wall of lead towards the advancing Germans. The limited effective range of the Lewis meant that little damage was done and the Germans split into two flights to try to attack the rear of the Gunbuses. It was as they were banking that the three of us hit them. I waiting until I was just four hundred yards away. I had perfected the technique of firing five bullets to show me how close I was and then a burst of twenty or thirty bullets once I was certain I could hit them.
The Fokker in my sights jerked his nose up as I fired my longer burst but it just meant that I shredded his tail. It made his Fokker unstable and I watched as he dived from the fight to head east. I saw the foot sloggers as they peppered him with ground fire. I banked to port and took a snap shot as a Fokker came across my guns. I stitched a line from his engine along to his fuselage and he too began to smoke and headed east.
I felt the thud of bullets strike me and I looked in my mirror. It worked; I could see a Fokker on my tail. I pulled hard and went into a loop. The Sopwith had a wonderfully small turning circle and the Fokker could not compete. As I came around he was still on the way up and his aeroplane was a perfect cross in my sights. I gave a ten second burst. I hit the pilot and his fuel tank. They exploded before my eyes. I flew through the debris and, when I emerged on the other side I saw I was in clear skies.
I checked my mirror. There was no one behind me. I banked to port and saw that the Germans were heading east. There were still a couple of dogfights ahead of me. Freddie and Johnny were fighting three Fokkers. I began to climb. I fired at a thousand yards. Far too long for a Lewis but the Vickers sent a trail of bullets towards the rearmost Fokker. I hit his fuselage. There was little damage but it must have worried him for the pilot banked the Fokker to starboard. I fired again as I followed him around. I was aware of Johnny and Freddie both looping at the same time. I could concentrate on the last German. My bullets struck him and I saw the Fokker judder. He banked to port to head east. I followed his line. I was catching him. I fired another burst and hit his tail. He began to descend. I was aware of ground fire. He had tried to lure me over the German lines. I banked to port and, as I did so, pulled the pin on one of Hutton’s Mills Bombs and hurled it over the side.
As I climbed I saw, in my new mirror, the grenade explode some fifty feet in the air. It would shower the German gunners with shrapnel. “That one was for you, Lumpy.”
I saw the two Fokkers which had been attacking Freddie and Johnny. They were spiralling to earth. I checked my fuel. I was getting low. I turned to port and headed west. We had survived another day.
As I came in to the field I counted only fourteen aeroplanes. Someone had not made it back. I saw in my mirror the two Pups following me and I breathed a sigh of relief.
The mechanics raced to my bus as soon as I stopped. They went to the rudder. As I climbed out I noticed the holes from the Fokker which had caught me napping. I chastised myself. I needed to get used to looking in my mirror. “I think you lads are going to have to do a lot of repairs over the next month or so.”
“At least if we are repairing them, sir, it means you have returned.”
“Who didn’t make it?”
“Lieutenant Dunston.”
He had been one of my flight and was one of the more experienced pilots in the squadron. I wondered if this was a taste of things to come.
When I reached the office the others were all there. “Good show today, Bill. Your three little Pups made all the difference.”
I was more cautious. “These weren’t the new German buses. These only had one Spandau. Wait until we meet the new boys!”
Randolph held up the map. “Here are the areas we need to photograph. It is a place called Vimy Ridge. We will be working alongside a couple of other squadrons. They want complete aerial photographs, a picture of everything from here,“ he pointed to the map, “Vimy, to here, Fleuchy. When we have those we will have to photograph further east. And we have to fly low to get as much detail as we can. You will have to endure ground fire.”
“That means that they will be ready for us. They will have time to observe our strategies.”
“I know, Gordy, but we have our orders.”
“And think about the poor sods who will need to attack across the mud.”
Archie held up his hand. “There is no point in debating this, we have our orders. What is the time scale?”
“We need everything photographed by the middle of March.”
That gave us less than two weeks. Archie looked at me. “We are getting no replacements. It is up to your guardian angels to watch our backs.”
“You might try Lumpy’s old trick of a couple of Mills Bombs too. It makes the Hun a little more nervous if he thinks you are going to drop a grenade or two. And I used the new mirrors we had fitted the other day. They work a treat. So long as you remember to look at them. You might need it if your gunner is photographing.”
“Good idea. I hate having a stiff neck.”
Ironically the death of Peter and his gunner did not induce a sombre feel to dinner, rather the squadron focussed on the success of the Pups. They had all had a front row seat to the show. After dinner Gordy got up and began to tell the young pilots of the time I had been a gunner and a pilot had tried a loop. It raised a chuckle and then Charlie said, “And of course the best thing was Captain Harsker had his own song.” Emboldened by his earlier success he began to sing. Gordy and Ted stood on either side and harmonised with him.
“He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease,
That daring young man on the flying trapeze.
His movements were graceful, all girls he could please
And my love he purloined away.
Once I was happy, but now I'm forlorn
Like an old coat that is tattered and torn;
Left on this world to fret and to mourn,
Betrayed by a maid in her teens.
The girl that I loved she was handsome;
I tried all I knew her to please
But I could not please her one quarter so well
As the man upon the trapeze.
He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease,
That daring young man on the flying trapeze.
His movements were graceful, all girls he could please
And my love he purloined away.
This young man by name was Signor Bona Slang,
Tall, big and handsome, as well made as Chang.
Where ‘er he appeared the hall loudly rang
With ovation from all people there.
He'd smile from the bar on the people below
And one night he smiled on my love.
She winked back at him and she shouted "Bravo,"
As he hung by his nose up above.
Her father and mother were both on my side
And very hard tried to make her my bride;
Her father he sighed, and her mother she cried,
To see her throw herself away.
One night I as usual went to her dear home,
Found there her father and mother alone.
I asked for my love, and soon they made known,
To my horror that she'd run away.
She'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease,
You'd think her the man young man on the flying trapeze.
Her movements were graceful, all girls she could please,
And that was the end of my love.
The young pilots though it was hilarious and soon the whole of the squadron was singing it. Archie leaned over, “They don’t mean any harm you know Bill. It is just a bit of banter.”
“I know and I am quite happy about it. I just can’t get over the change in shy, Charlie Sharp. He is like a different person.”
“That must be down to your sister. His flight can’t sing his praises high enough. A lot of that is down to you. He models himself on you. I think it is good for the squadron.”
“It is good for me too.” They all finished singing and were congratulating themselves. I stood and bowed. They applauded as though I had sung. That was a happy night. There were not many more of them in the next month.
Chapter 12
We headed north east on the 5th of March. I had a bad feeling as we took off. We had been lucky the last time we had been attacked; we had been very close to our lines. This time we would be twenty miles behind enemy lines. We would have both ground fire and enemy aeroplanes to contend with.
I had spent some time talking to Freddie and Johnny about the mirror, the Vickers and our tactics. We were all learning so much each time we went up. I was in love again and this time it was with metal and canvas. The Pup seemed to be an extension of me. I missed Lumpy but I did not miss the responsibility of knowing that I could be the cause of another’s death. Now I just had my own soul on my conscience.
We let the squadron take off and then we climbed high to be above them and use the superior ceiling of the Pup. We saw the Gunbuses below us. I felt for them. The gunner had canvas and wood to protect him and the Gunbus was so slow and big that the Germans could not miss them. Having flown a few missions in my Pup I could not believe how long I had survived in a Gunbus. They were such a huge target, how did the Germans miss them? We crossed the lines and, after we had passed the main German defences, the squadron dropped to an altitude where they could photograph the ground. Only a quarter of the aeroplanes had cameras. The rest were watching for the Germans.
We managed fifteen minutes before the black crosses appeared in the distance. I waggled my wings, armed my Vickers and then began my slow dive to attack from above. We needed to conserve fuel. The Pup only had an endurance of two and a half hours. I saw that there were at least two Jastas. They were a mixture of Halberstadts and Fokkers. I guessed that they only had one machine gun. We had a chance; only a slight one but some of the squadron might survive and give the generals their precious photographs. I knew I was being unfair. The intelligence we would gather would save the lives of many Tommies but I was thinking about my squadron.
I knew that we would have to try our new tactic of flying as close to the enemy as we could. Their formation could wreak havoc on the Gunbuses. They had seen us this time and six of them were angling up towards us. The word had got out about the new nimble little fighter. The puffs of smoke from the ground fire were alarming but, in reality, they were not even close. They stopped as the Halberstadts closed with us. I opened fire at a thousand yards. It was comfortable range and our tracer rounds were a good way to see how close I was. I saw that I was aiming high and so I dipped the nose marginally. It was hardly a movement at all but the next burst struck the propeller. That was how quickly we closed. The leading Halberstadt peeled off as the power dropped. I moved the stick to starboard and hit another burst. The Germans were now firing too, my move had taken me from the sights of the Halberstadt. My rounds were striking too low and I pulled the nose up a little. This time the German moved and bullets struck his wing.
I passed him so closely I could see that he had a waxed moustache! I pulled hard on the stick and banked to come up on his tail. It was like turning on a sixpence! The Pup was so responsive that I was able to fire a burst as he wiggled out of my sights. I hit his rudder and I could see him becoming more sluggish. I glanced in my mirror and it was empty. I was so close to him now that I felt I could reach out and grab his tail. I fired another burst and the bullets tore through the fuselage and into the pilot. As he slumped backward the Halberstadt rose into the air as his dead hands pulled on the stick. It was dead along with its pilot. It would loop until it either ran out of fuel or the controls I had damaged broke. Either way I chose my next target.
I banked left and began to dive. My first responsibility was to the Gunbuses below. As I passed a black cross I snap fired. I had no idea if I hit him or not but I was so close I felt as though I must have.
Below me I watched the other Halberstadts swarming around the Gunbuses. I saw that Ted had four around him and his wingman. I aimed the Pup at them and gave a burst at a thousand yards. I wanted them nervous. I only fired twenty bullets but the effect was instantaneous. The rear Fokker banked into my sights. I fired a long burst and saw his tail shredded. His dive became terminal. He was too close to the ground to avoid it. The concussion threw the other Germans and Ted’s craft into the air. I fired again and saw my bullets hit the Fokker in the engine. It dropped close to the ground, smoke pouring from a damaged engine. The other two climbed east. I fired again and heard the click of an empty chamber. I was out of bullets.
I scanned the skies and saw that there was just Ted and I left. High in the sky to the west, I saw the two Pups as they fought with the last Fokkers. We headed home.
As we landed I saw the medical teams around the Gunbuses and counted the aeroplanes. I did not see Lieutenants Tinkler and Chapel from Ted’s flight. We had paid a high price for the photographs.
I stood and watched as Freddie and Johnny landed. I knew that they were flying on fumes. The bullet holes in their Pups were testament to the combat. However they both climbed safely from the tiny yet formidable fighters. I could see the grins on their faces. “It works sir. If you get in amongst them and mix it up they can’t hit you.”
“But, my God, is it scary?”
The photographs were sent off. Randolph had a message from Headquarters that we were stood down for the next day and another squadron would risk the German fighters.
We needed the time to repair our buses. I knew I had been profligate when firing. I would h
ave to revert back to the system I had used with Lumpy. I would fire short bursts when I was close to the enemy. We were three aeroplanes against squadrons. We had to be better shots. We now had only eight Gunbuses and three Pups. Ted was down to a flight of two. The Major would have to join us now.
Out first replacements were due at the end of the week. After we had repaired our Pups I sat in the office smoking my pipe and drinking some whisky that Randolph had managed to acquire. “Will we have a squadron by the time the replacements arrive though, sir?”
“A moot point; I hope so. Believe it or not, we have done damned well.” He pointed to Randolph. “Randolph here tells me that 36 Squadron, who were on camera duty today, lost eight aeroplanes; three of them when the new pilots reacted badly and crashed.”
Gordy put down his whisky glass and stubbed out his cigarette. “I am guessing here that you do not want to throw the new pilots in at the deep end.”
“You know Gordy you could get a job at the end of Blackpool pier as a fortune teller!” Archie downed his whisky and poured us all another. “What is the point of letting them go up under trained and watching them die?” He pointed to me, “Look at Bill. He nurtured and molly coddled his two young pilots. The result is that Carrick and Holt saved the squadron today. Looking after young pilots is an investment in the future. I am not sending up the young lads until we have given them time to find their feet.”
There was silence. Ted and Gordy had been brought up the hard way; they had been sergeant gunners. Charlie sighed, “Look Gordy, the C.O. is right. The four of us in this room were all gunners first and we learned how to fight in the air with someone else ferrying us around. How many gunners could become pilots now? The poor buggers are lucky to survive twenty hours in the air. This isn’t 1915 anymore. The Eindecker was a pussycat compared with the D.III.”
