1917 Eagles Fall

by Griff Hosker

  “No. What is it?”

  “He was shot down a few weeks ago. He was killed and the estate is crippled by death duties.”

  “I liked Lord Burscough. He was a genuine bloke.” I saw the concern on his face as he took in the import of the death. “What about the cottage?”

  Well our little sister has persuaded her boss to relocate to the estate and I think everything will be all right.”

  “I hope so. At their age…”

  “Quite.” We had reached the main headquarters trench. “The colonel reckons it is dangerous in the tunnels.”

  “Well the Hun has started trying to dig underneath us. We now go armed but, like I said, those New Zealand boys are hard lads. We give as good as we get.” He looked at his watch. “Well I had best get back.” He held out his hand for Bates. “Nice to have met you.”

  “And you sir.”

  He laughed, “Nah, just a sergeant!” he grasped my hand firmly. “And you watch yourself but keep doing what you are doing. The lads love it. Every time there is a newspaper story about one of you fly boys they dig a bit harder.”

  “But why?”

  He shrugged, “We are in the same army, we are brothers… I don’t know the reasons. I just dig tunnels but I know that morale goes up every time we hear of a Hun being shot down.”

  I nodded, “And you, write home!”

  “I will.” He turned and strode confidently back to his hole in the ground.

  “Sir, you didn’t mention Miss Porter and your engagement.”

  “No Bates…” I shrugged, “I have enough to live up to as it is. It will be a nice surprise for him.”

  I knew that Bates was not convinced but Bert had enough to live with. I didn’t want something else for him to envy.

  Chapter 15

  I was quiet on the journey back. Bert had not lightened my load, he had added to it. He had also added worries for me. He was in more danger than I was. He seemed so confident and yet he was like a mole beneath the ground. There could not be a greater contrast. I soared like an eagle high in the sky; he burrowed beneath the ground out of sight of light. It did not seem fair.

  The squadron had survived another day without casualties and they were in the mood for a celebration. When we had passed through Arras I had stopped and bought some decent wine, chosen by Bates, and some good cheese. It made me feel less guilty about having the day off. I also found some tobacco I knew that Archie would like. The wine, cheese and tobacco seemed like the perfect accompaniment for the celebration.

  I also felt more like celebrating. My propeller had arrived and I could fly in the morning. Ted slapped me on the back. “Your lads came up with a good idea. The Bristol is a good fighter. She can’t turn like your Pups but you just aim and fire. You don’t have to worry about shooting your gunner’s head off and you have two hundred and fifty bullets! And the range…”

  “I wish you two would just shut up about your wonderful new aeroplanes. Some of us have to make do with the old Gunbus. Charlie is right. You do feel like an Aunt Sally up there. It is a good job that they are so solid and reliable.”

  “You’ll soon get yours, Gordy. I heard that 48 Squadron were equipped with the new Bristols yesterday. They are the first squadron to be fitted out with them. It is only a matter of time.”

  “They have that Captain Leefe Robinson don’t they? He’s the chap who got the V.C. for shooting down a Zeppelin over London.”

  “Well Charlie, we have Captain Bill Harsker who should have had a V.C.”

  “That’s all right, Ted. I am happy with my M.C.”

  Ted and Gordy took to arguing about the Bristol and the Gunbus. Charlie and I went to the bar for a brandy to finish off the night. “I wish I had been with you today.”

  “Why is that Charlie?”

  “I am keen to meet all of your family and to get to know them better. I wish we could have come with you when you went to Burscough. Your whole family seem so interesting. I have no brothers and sisters. There is just me and mum and dad and we, well, we are just ordinary.”

  “Trust me no one is more ordinary than us.”

  “You can’t believe that sir. I mean, look at what you and Alice have done. You are both successes.”

  “Lucky.”

  “Then look at Bert. He joined young and yet he is a sergeant already. You didn’t expect that did you, sir?”

  “Well if that is your yardstick you have made even greater strides. You are a captain.”

  He toasted me with his brandy. “And I would not be but for you so, cheers, Captain Harsker.”

  The mood changed the next morning when we were given our orders; it was not the mission we wanted. We were to photograph the German lines near Vimy and to ascertain the success of the creeping barrage. They were going to halt the guns for one hour while we flew over and photographed the ridge. It would be touch and go. Once we reached the British lines then they would cease fire and one hour later they would begin again. In theory we would have plenty of time but I knew that there could be small delays; the weather and wind could change; we could be attacked by the Hun.

  Although the five newer aeroplanes took off first we waited for the Gunbuses to catch us up. All of the Gunbuses were fitted with cameras. We had to ensure the maximum photographs. The wind was still a cold wind from the east. That, in itself, was a problem. It would slow down the Gunbuses even more. We would escape quicker but any Germans sent to intercept us would be able to do so easily.

  We headed across the front in two lines. The five angels were three thousand feet above the Gunbuses. I did not envy the Gunbuses. The German anti aircraft fire and the soldiers in the trenches would be desperate to strike back at a foe. The Gunbuses were an enormous target. We would be the first to reach the ridge. . The British artillery stopped by the time we had reached the forward trenches. I pictured Bert beavering away below the ground and the Colonel pointing proudly at us. It was good to know that, just by flying east, we were helping us get closer to victory.

  The anti aircraft fire began while we were over No-Man’s Land. Jack Swan’s bus caught one and I saw him peel off with smoke coming from his engine as he headed west. The other eight continued on. The next to be hit was Archie Leach. I saw holes appear in his wings and his rudder. He slowly descended. He was an old hand and he knew that he needed to be close to the ground in case he lost power.

  I had little time to observe for black dots appeared in the distance. We had just reached the area we were to photograph and we had just forty minutes to take them and return home before the barrage began again.

  We had to do our job now. I led the others east. I recognised the shape of the Albatros. The question was, would they have one Spandau or two? The fact that they headed for the Gunbuses told me that they were desperate for us not to know the effect of the bombing. It also gave us a slim chance. If we could hurt them first they might be discouraged. They were rapidly closing with the slow moving Gunbuses. We were still a thousand or so yards from them. We could fire but it would be a waste of bullets and it would warn them. The double chatter from the first Albatros gave us the bad news. They were the Albatros D.III.

  Gordy’s aeroplane was hit and his gunner stopped firing. I saw his bus jerk in the air and then he banked to head home. As the first Albatros banked, a second opened fire at Dicky Walker’s bus. His gunner managed to hit the Albatros and smoke poured from its engine. Even as it pulled away a third raked Dicky’s undercarriage and it too poured smoke. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Archie’s bus as it juddered from the strike of a pair of Spandau machine guns. It was like flying into a hailstorm of bullets.

  Luckily we were now less than five hundred yards from the Germans. I opened fire at the Albatros which had just struck Walker’s bus. I stitched a line across the wings. I lifted the nose and fired, almost blindly at the first Albatros which had banked around. Perhaps I was lucky for I managed to hit the radiator and engine from above and the Albatros juddered.

  I was
now at the end of the line and I began to bank. I glanced in my mirror and saw that I had made the manoeuvre in the nick of time. A Hun was just lining up on me and my sudden move threw him. I knew that I could turn inside him. I pulled back as hard as I could on the stick. As I came up I saw a black cross and I squeezed the trigger. I had no idea if I hit it for I found myself coming down towards my pursuer. He was less than fifty yards from me. I fired again and saw my bullets miss. He jinked to the side. The Pup is so responsive that I was able to replicate his move and fire again. This time I struck his rudder. He tried to dive down towards the ground. I gambled and banked starboard and then to port. He may not have had a mirror for he turned to starboard. I imagine he had a real shock when my tiny Pup appeared on his port side. I fired again and struck his engine. He was mine for the taking. Then my ammunition ran out. I banked to port and, as I passed him I waved. He saluted me. He had been lucky.

  I looked up and saw Johnny and Freddie descending to join me. My flight had all made it. I looked at my watch. We had fifteen minutes to cross No-Man’s land or risk being struck by our own artillery. We had just seen our barbed wire when I heard the first of the guns as they fired. I stopped breathing. When we passed our trenches I began to breathe again. That had been close.

  Even the new buses had been badly shot up. I saw mechanics swarming all over the damaged aeroplanes and the medical orderlies dressing the wounds. We knew we had been in a battle but I did not count any losses. That was how we measured success in 1917; small gains and no losses.

  Archie was in his office his arm in a sling. It was his right arm. He slumped into his seat, having had the cut dressed by Doc Brennan and he picked up the whisky. He downed it in one. We were still giving our oral reports to Randolph. It was grim. Dicky Walker and Gordy both had aeroplanes which needed a great deal of work. Archie, obviously could not fly and the new aeroplanes needed repairs.

  I watched as Archie tried to fill his pipe one handed. “Here sir.” I reached over and filled it for him.

  “Thanks Bill. I forgot that you had to learn to do things one handed when you were wounded. It is annoying.”

  I handed it to him. He put it in his mouth and I struck a match. When it was going he tamped it down and nodded. “Thanks. Well that was a bit of a bugger. I hope they appreciate those photographs.”

  Charlie seemed quite upbeat. “We lost no aeroplanes sir and we chased them off. I saw Bill here wing a couple and their engines smoked. They might not get up tomorrow either.”

  “If I hadn’t run out of bullets I would have had that last one.”

  The telephone rang. Randolph nodded and then spoke. He gave our report. He listened again. “Yes sir, I’ll have the film sent over immediately. Thank you, sir.”

  “Well the good news is we don’t have to fly tomorrow. 45 Squadron is up and running and they are keen to try their new Bristols out. They will cover the reconnaissance aeroplanes. We are stood down until the sixth. We may not be needed again until the seventh.”

  Gordy slammed the desk in joy. “That is the best news I have had in a long time. If 45 Squadron have a good show tomorrow with the new bus then we will get ours that much quicker. I have had enough of being a target in a Gunbus.”

  Ted wagged his finger. “They might be better than the Gunbus but they still only have the one forward firing gun. The Hun has more powerful engines.”

  Charlie smiled as he poured himself another whisky, “We just have to out fly them. We have the best pilots here. We just keep on being the best.”

  Archie raised his glass, “Lads let’s celebrate the fact that we have had no losses. 41 Squadron!”

  “41 squadron!”

  Bates handed me a letter when I reached my quarters. “I don’t think it is from your family sir. I don’t recognise the handwriting.”

  I didn’t either. I opened it. “It is from Lumpy Hutton.”

  Bates smiled, “I liked him sir and I miss his happy, smiling face. I hope he is coping.”

  “So do I.”

  19 Hind Street

  Stockton on Tees

  County Durham

  February 1917

  Captain Harsker,

  I thought I would drop you a quick line to let you know how things are going. I met your young lady again. She is lovely and you are a lucky man, sir. I was a little down sir but she gave me some good advice and cheered me up no end. Tell the doc that he did a grand job with the amputation. Your young lady looked at it and said it was the neatest job she had ever seen.

  I met with Jack’s widow. She was in a bad way. It wasn’t just the loss of Jack, she and the bairns hadn’t been well. There was no one to look after them. I took a room in a lodging house nearby and I have looked after them for a while. I am still receiving Flying Corps pay and I can help out. The collection from the lads helped out too.

  I have managed to get a job as a clerk in an engineering firm in Stockton, Wrightson’s. The pay is not too grand but they were short of someone who could read and write and knew how machines worked. The boss lost a son at the Somme and when he saw my record he was keen. It’s something, sir.

  This will be my address for the time being.

  I am getting used to the one hand. Of course I sometimes try to use it. It’s daft, sir, but sometimes I could swear I still have it. It itches all the time. I can almost feel my fingers. It’s stupid I know.

  Tell the lads to take care of themselves and you too, sir. This country will need blokes like you when this is all over. I have seen that for myself. It’s sad, sir, that decent lads like Jack get killed. Most of the blokes I have seen, since I came home, look shifty. They haven’t been to war. I don’t bother with them. I drink with the ex-servicemen in a little pub overlooking the river. We joke that between us we have one whole body. We are a close knit bunch. It feels like the Sergeant’s Mess.

  You take care,

  I remember you, each night, in my prayers. Your young lady says that you worry about me. Don’t. Worry about yourself. I will be fine.

  Yours,

  Lumpy Hutton

  I was happy that things were going well for him and that he had found friends. My worry had been that such a gregarious fellow would pine away. I should have known better. Lumpy was like the other servicemen he had found. He was the salt of the earth. We were a tough and hardy lot in the north. Even Lady Burscough had bounced back from the edge of disaster.

  Chapter 16

  I went to check on the repairs to my Pup’s wings the next day and saw the Senior Flight Sergeant with the fuel bowser and cans of fuel. I was intrigued. “What are you and your boys doing Mr Lowery? It doesn’t look like a normal service.”

  He smiled, “No it isn’t. It’s Mr Sharp’s idea and it is a good one. He wondered if we could filter the fuel before we put it into the aeroplanes.” I had a puzzled look. “It’s not a bad idea. He noticed that sometimes there must be dirt or something in the fuel for the engine occasionally misfires and slows, especially when climbing. He said that he knew we all checked the filters on the engine and that we serviced them. The only thing he could think of was dirt in the fuel. Here, Joe, show Mr Harsker the first filter we used.” The mechanic showed me the fine metal filter. It looked like they had stolen it from the kitchens. I saw in the bottom tiny pieces of dirt and other foreign bodies. “He’s a bright lad is Mr Sharp. A piece like that could cause a blockage and...”

  “You are right Sarn’t, carry on.” Charlie was growing day by day. He could have saved lives by his suggestion.

  A day off was never really a day off. The bus needed many small jobs doing; making sure the cockpit would be right for the next flight. Ensuring that I had everything I needed in the cockpit; checking the compass and gauges. The mechanics would do all of that but they didn’t have to fly at nine thousand feet. Once that was done I had all the paper work to do for the flight. Surprisingly I did not mind. I had never been a good student while at school. I had always wanted to be off with the horses. My handwriting had
been atrocious. All of the girls in our class had been much neater than I was and I hated having to practise on the blackboard in front of the whole class. Now I could take my time and I had no one to judge me.

  Randolph put the telephone down. “Well that is good news.”

  “What’s that Randolph?”

  “They are sending two Bristols over tomorrow. It means we can give one to Gordy and one to Archie. Half of the squadron will have a decent bus.”

  “I can remember when the FE 2 was a good bus.”

  “Times change. Look at these, what do you call them, tanks? They will revolutionise the face of war. Machine gun bullets can’t penetrate them. They ride over any obstacles and I am not even certain that they could be bombed.”

  “Didn’t I hear that they broke down on the Somme when they first used them?”

  “Teething troubles. And mark my words they will have aeroplanes which can go much faster than the Pup soon.”

  As I went back to my reports I thought about that. War killed but it also brought about changes. They were now talking about building huge airships to travel to America and Australia. I was certain that would not have happened if the Germans hadn’t built them for the war.

  Randolph hummed happily to himself. He was like the mother hen of the squadron. He didn’t fly himself but he watched us as we took off every day. He kept the records of life and death, success and failure. He would be more than happy if we had an aeroplane which gave us a chance in the air.

  That evening, at dinner, he was late. It was not like him. When he finally arrived his face looked drawn. He sat between Archie and me. “A large whisky Sarn’t.”

  He said nothing until it arrived and then he downed it in one. Archie asked, quietly, “A problem Captain?”