1917 Eagles Fall

by Griff Hosker

  When the smoke had cleared I stood. I saw Lieutenant Alldardyce’s Bristol as he came east towards the pyre to see if I had survived. I waved to Speight who waved back. Then an Albatros zoomed down and fired at him. Speight fired at the German and Lieutenant Alldardyce turned the Bristol around and headed west. I was behind enemy lines again but this time there was no Lumpy to help me. At least this time, if my wingman reached base, they would know that I had survived the crash; that would be something. There might not be a telegram to Burscough.

  My country upbringing came to my aid. I knew how to hide in farmland and woods. I had spent hours as a child playing hide and seek in such places. I ran from the burning aeroplane and headed for the west side of the field. I was less than twenty miles from a very fluid front. The trenches were still being established. I had my best chance to slip across to the British lines.

  I heard a shout from behind me. There were German infantry flooding into the field. I threw myself through the hedge. Brambles and hawthorn tugged at my leather coat but I made it. I was glad I had left my goggles and helmet on my head; they saved my eyes and face from too much damage. I emerged in a lane which ran north to south. I remembered crossing it in the Pup. I saw a gate and ran towards it. I hurtled across the field; I kept heading west.

  I heard the crack of a rifle as I reached half way and saw the Germans aiming their rifles at me. I headed towards the gate in the field. This time I hurled myself over it and turned left to run towards a large and semi-derelict barn. I threw myself through the entrance and rolled behind an old rotting stack of hay. I lay there panting and trying to catch my breath. I could see, through a crack in the decaying wooden walls, the Germans as they entered the field. They did not turn left as I had but ran west following my original course.

  I decided that I would wait until the hue and cry had died down before I left my sanctuary. I realised just how thirsty I was. I glanced around but there was no water to be seen. The barn itself had another exit behind me. It had had a gate once but it was no longer there. Beyond it I saw that the land began to descend to the first road I had crossed. That would be my escape route.

  I heard voices and I froze as the Germans returned across the field. They had shouldered their arms and I hoped that they had given up. Then I saw a non commissioned officer point towards the barn and four soldiers unslung their weapons and walked towards me. I slid down behind the hay and drew my Webley. I wondered if I could surprise them. I lifted my head a little and saw that the other soldiers had left the field. I had four Germans to dispose of and then I could head through the other door. I covered myself with the rotting and smelly hay and moved back into the shelter of a broken cow byre.

  I made myself as small as I possibly could. I heard them shout something in German. Then they began to talk. Suddenly a long vicious bayonet stabbed through the hay. It missed my head and my eye by inches only.

  I heard more German spoken and this time the voices began to recede as the searchers left. I lay there until all was silent. I didn’t realise, until I tried to stand, that I had hurt myself when I had been thrown to the ground. I was stiff. I put my Webley back in my holster. I did not want to trip and fire accidentally. I decided to head out of the other door. I moved towards it, peering down, across the field, to the road. It appeared to be silent. I had no watch but I thought it was late afternoon. As I was about to step out I heard the sound of a vehicle and I ducked back inside the barn and pressed my back against the wooden wall.

  The engine drew closer and then stopped. After a few moments it began to move again and I breathed a sigh of relief. I waited until I had counted five hundred in my head. Then I left the security of the barn and moved down the field to the gate which stood between two imposing walls which were the height of me. I suspected the farmhouse would be further down and was attached to the wall. I glanced left and saw, a hundred yards away, the burnt out shell of the farmhouse. That proved that there were no people close by. With the Germans gone I had the chance to head west. As I neared the gate I worked out that I would probably reach the German lines at dark and that would be my best chance to escape.

  On reaching the gate I waited and listened. I saw that the gate was secured by a piece of rope. I unloosed it from the post but did not open the gate. I listened. The road, which appeared to be narrow, was, once more, silent. I slowly opened the gate and eased myself through it. I glanced to my right and the road was empty. I turned my head to the left and found myself looking down the barrel of a German rifle.

  The German officer standing behind the soldier said something in German. I did not understand what he said and I heard the bolt on the rifle click ominously. The officer gestured with his Luger and I raised my hands. He smiled and said something which sounded like ‘Good.’ He took my Webley and pointed up the road, to the left. There was the vehicle I had heard and there were six German soldiers standing nearby with their rifles pointed at me.

  As I trudged up the road I visualised the prospect of spending the rest of the war in a prisoner of war camp. I smiled to myself. At least I could keep my promise to Beattie and survive the war.

  Chapter 26

  I was placed in the back of the German lorry. Four of the occupants kept their guns trained on me. I hoped they had their safety catches on otherwise one bump might be fatal. I expected a long drive to somewhere in the east; a large headquarters perhaps but we drove for no more than seven or eight minutes. When I was helped from the back I saw that I was at an airfield. There was a mixture of aeroplanes lined up. I recognised the AEG, the Fokker E 1 and a couple of Halberstadts. A young officer strolled over towards us. He had a guard with him but the guard’s rifle was slung over his shoulder.

  He said something in German to my captors who saluted him and then climbed back aboard the lorry and drove through the sentries at the gate. He held out his hand and said, in quite good English, “I am Lieutenant Josef Jacobs of Jasta 22. You are now our prisoner.” I shook his hand. “But I hope we can be civilised and treat you as a guest. You are, after all, a fellow flier.”

  “I am Captain Bill Harsker of 41 Squadron.”

  “Good, pleased to meet you.” He shrugged apologetically and lifted the flap on my holster. He saw that my service revolver had gone. “Just checking. Please follow me.” I saw the glow from the open door and I heard the boisterous noise of pilots who were celebrating. I was being taken to the mess.

  The guard took my greatcoat, helmet and goggles; I took the pipe and tobacco from the pocket and entered. He remained outside. The room went silent as I entered. It was similar to ours and there were roughly the same number of officers. White coated orderlies stood around the side and I saw that I had arrived at meal time. An older officer came up to me and he held out his hand. My escort said, “This is Staffelführer Rudolph Windisch, the commanding officer of this Jasta,” He shook my hand and said something.

  “Captain Bill Harsker.”

  My interpreter led me to the head of the table and I was seated between the Staffelführer and the lieutenant. I noticed that the Staffelführer was younger than me.

  The orderlies brought food and wine. I was starving but I knew enough about protocol to wait until everyone else ate. The Staffelführer said something and everyone stood with their glass in their hand. They all turned to face the photograph of the Kaiser and said something before drinking. I raised my glass and drank. The Staffelführer nodded his approval.

  We sat and they began to eat. I ate as slowly as I could manage despite the fact that I was ravenous. I could see the young officers staring at me but everyone ate in silence. That was a difference with our mess where chatter and banter was the order of the day. We finished, not with cheese, as we did in our mess but a many layered chocolate cake covered in cream. It was delicious but I could not imagine eating it too often. It would have been too sickly.

  After the plates had been cleared we were given a clear spirit which I knew to be Schnapps. I had enough sense to drink this carefull
y. They all looked at me expectantly. The lieutenant asked me questions which he translated from the others.

  “Are you the pilot who flies the small Sopwith with the picture of the horse on the side?”

  I nodded, “I am.”

  When he translated the answer I received a round of applause. I looked at Josef questioningly. He smiled, “You were the one who returned the effects of the dead bomber crew. We respect that and your aeroplane is known to us. You are a fine pilot.”

  “Thank you.” I took out my pipe, “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  I got the pipe going and he asked, “The Staffelführer wants to know why the horse? Is it a family name perhaps?”

  I shook my head, “No, I began the war in the cavalry.”

  When that was translated I received a second round of applause. The Staffelführer clapped me on the back and said something.

  “He says you are a true knight. He, too, was in the cavalry briefly and that you are brothers beneath the skin.”

  The evening turned out to be far more pleasant than the one I had expected. I was careful not to drink too much and to tell them nothing which might be considered a secret. To be honest they were more interested in the Pup and how it flew. It seems our three Pups in this sector had caused something of a stir.

  I wondered how long I would be there. When the Staffelführer went to the bathroom I asked Josef, for we were on first name terms, about my future, “What happens now?”

  He looked at me sadly, “The day after tomorrow you will be taken to a prisoner of war camp.” He shrugged apologetically and then brightened, “However tomorrow evening we will be honoured by a visit of Baron Manfred Von Richthofen, our greatest ace. He is keen to meet for you managed to drive him from the skies today and that is rare.”

  “I thought I recognised his red Albatros.”

  “He is a great ace. He is an inspiration to us all.” Once again he gave me an apologetic look. “I am afraid that we will have to put an armed guard outside your room but…”

  “I understand.”

  For the remainder of the evening I was formulating my escape plan. There was little point in trying to get out at night; not without knowing the layout of the field. I would be able to see that the next day and then escape after the evening meal. I had had no hope when I had been taken prisoner but now I had some.

  “Come, I will escort you to your room.”

  The mess all stood and saluted as I left. It was bizarre. We fought and died in the air as enemies and yet I had just been treated as a cousin visiting a relative abroad.

  Although not a cell, the room they had given me had no window and was crudely furnished. I did not mind. As my dad might have said, ‘Where there is life there is hope’. I would make the best of any opportunities which came my way. I chuckled when I remembered Lumpy’s words too, “Nils Desperandum’.

  After I had washed and put on the pyjamas they had provided I examined the room for any weapon. They had not searched me nor had they asked for my word that I would not escape. I think they assumed that, as a gentleman, I would not try. I still had my Luger in my boot and I had put them beneath the bed in case the guard came into my room during the night. As a precaution I placed the chair close to the door so that it would make a noise if anyone tried to enter. I was finally ready for sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to find a way to escape back to the British lines.

  The German bugle awoke me the next morning and I smiled as I remembered Lumpy. I dressed quickly so that I would have my boots on when the guard came in. As it turned out they were in no hurry for me to leave the room. I heard the sound of aeroplane engines roaring down the airfield and wondered where they had gone. It was Josef who came for me. He apologised, “The squadron has taken off for a mission and the Staffelführer thought it would be insensitive for you to have to watch them.”

  They didn’t know me! It would not have worried me in the least. After breakfast Josef and our guard took me on a tour of the airfield. “Why are you not flying today, Josef?”

  He looked a little embarrassed. “I damaged my aeroplane when landing the other day and we are waiting for spares. My gunner is not happy about it. Come I will show you my aeroplane.”

  I saw the mechanics around a two seater. It was an LVG and the engine was in bits. He would not be flying soon. He spoke briefly with the mechanics and then shrugged as we walked away. “They say three more days.” He shook his head, sadly, “I will be sorry to see you go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because tomorrow, after you leave I have to fly that!” He pointed to an old Aviatik. I had not seen one in the air for a year or so. ”And I hate spotting. I would be like you, a fighter pilot!”

  “It looks as though it has not flown for a while.”

  “No, we use it to train fresh pilots. The mechanics will be working on it today. When it is ready we will test the engine and take it for a test flight” He had given me too much information. If he was flying the Aviatik then he was spotting for artillery. That was valuable intelligence.

  We wandered the base for a couple of hours. I saw that they had a similar defensive arrangement as we did but they appeared to have specially trained gunners on the machine guns with their own officers. We returned to the mess for coffee and some more of the chocolate cake. Josef look sadly at the coffee pot. “Coffee will have to be rationed soon. With America in the war we only get it from our allies, the Turks. I will miss my coffee.”

  I discovered much about young Josef. He came from Stuttgart and his father had been a soldier in the Franco-Prussian War. He had been a cavalryman. Josef asked me many questions about my time in the cavalry. I felt more comfortable answering those questions as they could not compromise our war efforts. The cavalry were no longer a fighting force, sadly.

  I asked him about his English. “We had a governess for the family and she was English. My father had admired your Queen Victoria, who was a relative of the Kaiser. I grew up speaking English before I could speak German.”

  “It is excellent.”

  “If the war had not come along I would have gone to Oxford to study. I would have liked that.”

  “You still can.”

  “Perhaps.” He did not look convinced. I wondered at the similarities in the pilots I had met here and those at home. Freddie and Johnny would have fitted right in with the German pilots.

  “Tell me, Captain Harsker, when you were in the cavalry did you kill?”

  “Yes.”

  “You see, in the air we rarely see who we kill do we?”

  “Sometimes you do but you are right it is rare.”

  “My father said that when you use a sword to kill a man it is hard but once you have done it then every other death becomes easier. Is that true?”

  I remembered the last Germans I had killed in close combat in old Albert’s house in Belgium. “Never easier but you lose the hesitation. Often it is his life or yours. You do what you must to survive.”

  “I understand. I now know why you have shot down so many of our aeroplanes. You are like the Baron, you have the killer instinct.”

  We heard the drone of engines and walked to the window to watch the mixed formation land. I could see that they had lost an aeroplane. The slumped shoulders of the younger pilots spoke volumes. I said, “I will go to my room, Josef. It would be awkward to be here when you have lost a pilot.”

  He nodded, “You are a gentleman. Franz here will go with you.”

  The guard, Franz, spoke no English but he smiled more now and seemed quite happy to follow us around. His gun was always over his shoulder. I had another reason for returning to my room, I wanted to work out my escape plan. It had been brewing in my head all morning. Josef’s chatter had stopped me from clarifying it. I sat in the chair and smoked my pipe. By the time the tobacco was all gone I knew what I would have to do. I felt guilty that Josef would be hurt by my action but I was an officer and it was my duty to escape. If I did not leave in the next eighte
en hours then I would never leave. The car which was coming to take me away would here by noon the next day.

  Franz knocked on my door, “Please, come.”

  He looked inordinately pleased with his new English. I smiled at the young soldier. “Thank you, Franz, good!”

  He beamed and I was led to the mess where they were preparing for lunch.

  The Staffelführer bombarded me with more questions. This time, however, it was questions about England and my background. He seemed surprised to discover that my family had been servants. Josef asked, “The Staffelführer wants to know is this usual?”

  “In most squadrons, no, but in ours there are a number of us who have come from the ranks.”

  “The Staffelführer says you are a natural pilot. He knows that his friend, the Baron, is impressed with you.”

  “When will he be arriving?” The question was reasonable but it would affect my escape plans.

  “He will be here for dinner. We are honoured to have him and the Staffelführer has arranged for a fine meal. It will be a banquet to celebrate the Baron’s recent victories.” He looked embarrassed, “Sorry. They were your comrades.”

  I shrugged, “It is war.”

  During the afternoon I went with Josef and Franz when he went to look at the Aviatik. He was annoyed that there was just one mechanic working on it. There was an exchange of words. He turned to me, red faced and angry. “This fool says he cannot see what the fault is.”