by Griff Hosker
“There is going to be a big push in about a month or so.” We all looked at each other. There had been rumours running around the squadron for the last few weeks. “Quiet down! You sound like a bunch of excited school girls.” We were all suitably chastened and looked at his board again. “Our task is to prevent the German reconnaissance aeroplanes from observing the movements behind our lines. We have been given twenty miles of the front to cover.”
Captain Marshall marked on the map where the sector was.
“Your route will be a square. You are not to cross no-man’s land and you are not to initiate combat. If German aeroplanes attempt to cross our front lines then you can engage but I want to make it quite clear, gentlemen, that you will not take your aeroplanes to attack the Germans on their side of the front.” As he was staring at the three of us, ‘the old sergeants’, we knew that he meant us in particular.”We have the chance to build a great squadron but we need well trained pilots who gain the right sort of aerial combat experience. Not just lucky pot shots. Be patient gentlemen.”
I rolled my eyes at Gordy as we left. Words were immaterial. He was having another dig at us and attempting a rousing speech for the troops. He failed in both. The lieutenants did not look inspired and we were now immune to his criticisms.
Johnny Holt walked with me to the aircraft. “I say, I am to fly next to you. I feel safer already, Bill.”
Since I had watched over him when he had crash landed he had become my semi-permanent shadow. He was immensely grateful for what he saw as a life saving intervention by me. He had made too much of it. It was what soldiers had always done; watch out for their comrades.
“Don’t worry Johnny. You will find it much easier today. The first combat is always the hardest. If you see any Germans just make sure they can’t get in your blind spot. How is your sergeant?”
“Oh he is a good sort. Still he is not as good as Sergeant Sharp but I have high hopes for Bert.”
I wagged a finger in his face. “Now do not let the major hear you being so familiar with the staff!”
He laughed but added, in a quiet voice, “You know when I joined the squadron I was so excited to be serving with the major. During training he was terrific. He was kind and understanding but out here… well he has changed.”
I nodded. “It does that to a man. Now you have to learn to be a combat pilot and that is totally different from training.”
“I know but you are next to me and you are the leading ace in the squadron.”
It was the first time I had heard the term although the newspapers were filled with the idea of someone who could shoot down enemy aeroplanes. The papers were full of praise for Major Lanoe Hawker who had shot down or destroyed more than seven aeroplanes. “Don’t let the major hear you say that. He would not be happy. Now fly safe Johnny.”
We took off. Once we reached the correct altitude I heard Sharp say, “I managed to acquire some extra magazines sir. They are just behind my seat. The balance should be fine but let me know if you need them moving.”
“Righto.” Sharp had put them in the best place. We did not want them at the front, even though they would have afforded some protection from a head on attack.
We had been flying for half an hour when he pointed towards the German lines. What do you think they are up to sir?”
I saw where he pointed and there were two aeroplanes; an Aviatik and a Fokker. They appeared to be flying lazy circles about fifty feet above the German lines. “I have no idea Charlie unless they are doing what we are doing and watching for us.”
“No sir, I think that they would be higher.” I liked that in Charlie he was a thinker and not afraid to contradict me.
Just them we heard the unmistakable chatter of a German machine gun. There, just five miles away was Johnny Holt and he was being attacked by a Fokker which had come from the west! The young pilot headed east.
“The bastards! It is a trap Charlie. They are driving Mister Holt towards the other two. They will be able to rake him when he flies over them.” There was a heartbeat when I considered obeying orders. “Let’s go and help him!”
“Yes sir!”
I heard the delight in Sharp’s voice. I began to climb. I needed the extra speed that the dive would give me. Johnny was doing his best to avoid the monoplane which followed him. He climbed, he dived and he banked but the Fokker kept after him like a sheep dog. No matter which way Johnny attempted to go he was forced further and further east and the two waiting vultures.
“Charlie I want you to fire as soon as we are in range. We have spare ammo and I can fire the rear Lewis while you change magazines.”
“Sir!”
If I could fire then Holt might realise I was coming to his aid and turn towards me. It was a race against time and we were losing. Before Sharp was in range the two waiting aeroplanes had opened fire from below. I saw Holt’s gunner throw his arms in the air and then slump forward. Bert would fly no more. The Lieutenant took evasive action by heading south; away from us. He could not have seen us. As we were the last two in the patrol we were both heading away from friends and any help that might bring.
Suddenly Charlie opened fire. He did not hit the Fokker but made the pilot turn. I had noticed that they had a tendency to yaw and this one did just that. It meant that he was no longer firing at Holt. Unfortunately the other two aeroplanes had done the damage and smoke was coming from the FE 2’s engine. I wondered why he did not head back to our lines when I saw his tail. The rudder had been shredded by the Fokker. He could not turn even if he wanted to.
Sharp had fitted a new magazine and this time he did strike the Fokker which peeled away towards the east. I dived down on to the other two aeroplanes. I saw Sharp fire at the remaining Fokker and I fired at the Aviatik. They were both slower aeroplanes and, as they tried to turn to bring their guns to bear on us it allowed Holt to open a lead. Unfortunately he was heading into German territory but he might survive.
“Let’s see how brave our German friends are. Hold on Charlie I am going straight for them.”
As soon as I dived towards them I rendered both of their guns useless. They could not bring them to bear. The German ground troops were afraid to fire in case they hit their own aeroplanes. The two Germans split up to avoid being struck by my bus. I screamed over the lines at no more than twenty feet. Had we had a bomb or even a grenade then Sharp could have caused some damage. As it was I was just desperate to escape. The evasive action by the two Germans and my superior speed meant that it would take them some time to catch me. They would have to turn and gain altitude.
I began to climb and follow Johnny. He was easy to spot with a plume of smoke coming from his engine. He was going down.
“Charlie, I am going after him. When I land… if I can land then you keep watch with the Lee Enfield.”
“Sir.” There was a pause, “I knew I should have bought that German phrase book.”
I could see that the damage to the Gunbus would make landing difficult. In addition my young comrade would have little choice in his landing zone. He would have to put it down where he could and not where he wanted. I, at least, was undamaged and could choose my spot.
He was getting lower and lower. There were no hedgerows in this part of Belgium which was a saving grace. There were, however, drainage ditches running along the fields and the roads. I watched, in horror, as his FE 2 suddenly lurched alarmingly. He fought to bring it under control. He almost managed it but the tip of the wing caught and he cart wheeled, again. There was a cloud of dust and smoke and the aeroplane disappeared from view. There was a road running parallel with the field and I dropped down as soon as I could. The road was slightly bumpy but was infinitely smoother than a field. Our narrow undercarriage meant we could manage to avoid the ditches. In the distance I could see my two pursuers. They were about three miles away. We would not have much time. I saw Holt hanging from the cockpit.
“Charlie, change of plan. Leap out and grab Mr Holt, I thing the gun
ner is dead. Take the Very pistol. I will turn the bus around. Bring him back and then fire the aeroplane.”
“Yes sir!”
I slowed the aeroplane down and Sharp leapt out. I slowly turned us around using the side of the field, which was mercifully hard, and the cobbled road. The two Germans were getting closer. I could see them in the distance but the position of their guns meant that they would find it hard to fire while we were on the ground. I quickly changed my magazine and then watched as Sharp manhandled the young lieutenant from the cockpit. When Sharp began to carry him back I knew that he was still alive.
The German aeroplanes were less than a mile away. I cocked the Lewis. As I did there was an almighty crump as the Very flare ignited the fuel spilled from the downed craft. It distracted the two German pilots and I took advantage spraying each aeroplane with a short burst as they flew towards us. I must have hit both aeroplanes for they veered away. Sergeant Sharp dumped the injured pilot in the front cockpit and then scrambled on board.
He began passing me the magazines he had stored behind his seat. “We’ll be nose heavy with these, sir. They will help the balance.”
He was right, of course. I began to gun the motor but the two Germans were already banking to come around again. They were trying to get on both sides of me where their machine guns would have a cross fire. “Hold tight Charlie!”
The speaking tube was not working and I would have to shout now to pass instructions to Charlie. I gunned the engine to maximum revs. If it had been the old la Rhone engine we would never have got off the ground but the Rolls Royce Eagle was a powerful beast and the nose gradually came up. I saw Sergeant Sharp struggling to fire the Lewis at the Aviatik which was flying almost alongside us. The Fokker could not bring his gun to bear yet and so I banked towards the Aviatik. My manoeuvre took the pilot by surprise and Sharp’s burst struck his engine. It began to cough and falter. I immediately banked to port. To my horror the Fokker had banked to starboard. For one horrible moment I thought that we were going to collide but, more by luck than anything else, I lifted my nose as he lowered his. He had the presence of mind to fire a burst at us and I felt the undercarriage shudder. He had hit us.
I used all the power I had to take us as far away from the two Germans as it was possible to get. We had suffered damage and we were overloaded. The odds did not look good. Once again I began to climb. There would be ground fire ahead and I needed the height to avoid them. I also needed the speed I would gain from that height. When I reach two thousand feet I glanced astern. The Fokker had a game pilot aboard. He was trying to catch me even though we were faster at this altitude. He was still following me but he was now three miles adrift. He would not catch me unless we were hit by ground fire.
I was desperate to know how Lieutenant Holt was but this was neither the time nor the place for conversation. That would have to wait. The puffs of shell fire around us told me when we were over the German lines and I breathed a sigh of relief when it stopped. I was almost back in friendly territory.
The field looked huge and welcoming after landing on the tiny road. I remembered being hit and so I shouted, “Brace yourselves. This could be rough!”
Rough is an understatement. The undercarriage had been so badly damaged that as soon as we touched down it sheared. If it had not been for the nose wheel we would have done a cartwheel but it held long enough for the fuselage to slither and slew across the grassy airfield. The random thought crossed my mind that the ground crew would not be happy with the scar I would leave on the ground. Eventually we stopped.
I heard Charlie give a little cheer and kiss the front of the cockpit. I was aware of a large number of people waiting for us. A crowd of people raced over with hosepipes and medical equipment. I saw the doctor and his orderly as they helped the lieutenant from the cockpit and then Ted and Gordy helped me down.
As I clambered down I caught sight of the major and Sergeant Shield with two armed airmen. I wondered why they had their guns. I was about to say something about using one of my nine lives to Gordy when I heard the major roar angrily, “Arrest that officer immediately. Lieutenant Harsker, I did warn you, now you will have your court martial!”
Chapter 6
To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I had just saved a brother officer’s life and I was now under arrest. I now understood why he had brought armed soldiers and Sergeant Shield; his pet guard dog and spy. They had surrounded me in an instant. Gordy and Ted began to protest.
“Sir, you cannot be serious!”
“Consider your position before you say another word, gentlemen. I will happily put you both in the same cell as the prisoner.”
I almost laughed as the cell would be a tent. “Leave it lads, let the little man have his moment of pleasure.”
The watching gunners and airmen began smiling as the major went bright red with rage. He spluttered, “You are making it worse for yourself! You, you, ex-sergeant!”
At that many of those watching did laugh including two of my erstwhile guards. I found I was enjoying this. “How am I making it worse? Will you arrest me twice and court martial me twice?” I turned to the airmen guarding me, “Well then boys, let’s get on with it!”
“I give the orders!”
“Well give them then, I have had a hard day.” I smiled, “I take it I will not need to write a report tonight?”
“Take him away!” His voice was so high that only dogs heard part of it.
One of the airmen said, “Er where to sir?”
“His tent, you imbecile!”
That made it even more laughable. When I reached my tent I said, “Thank you for the escort boys. I feel much safer with you to protect me.”
“The prisoner will refrain from speaking with his guards, sir!”
“Really, Sergeant Shield and in which part of King’s Regulations is that sentence to be found?”
His silence was eloquent. I had been taught well by my mentor in the cavalry, Sergeant Armstrong. The guard dog did not know the regulations; he just cherry picked them. I took off my flying gear and lay back on my cot. What a day! I could not have expected it would end this way but I knew that I would not change one of my actions. In a way it was a relief. The major had constantly threatened me with a court martial. I was just pleased that it was for something worthwhile. I hoped that Lieutenant Holt would recover. In all the commotion I had not had time to ask after him.
I heard the guards talking outside until Sergeant Shield roared, “You are on duty. If you speak again you will be on a fizzer!”
There was silence as, I assumed, he walked away. I heard one of the guards say quietly, “Pompous prick!”
Then there was silence. I knew that the rest of the officers would be in the mess. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the peace. I must have fallen asleep for the next thing I knew Captain Marshall and Gordy were standing over me. It was dark and they had a lamp and a tray of food.
Gordy laughed, “How you can sleep at a time like this is beyond me. Here we brought you some food and the Captain here will take you through the procedure of the court martial.” He suddenly became serious. “It looks bad, Bill.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and took the tray. I looked up at the captain. “Well go on, sir, while the condemned man eats a hearty meal.”
I could see that the cooks had gone out of their way to make the meal as hearty and appetising as they could. I doubted that Sergeant Shield and the major would approve.
The Captain sat on my camp stool while Gordy sat on the bed. “Let’s get the charges out of the way. Firstly that you wilfully disobeyed orders, by leaving your allotted patrol, secondly that you wilfully disobeyed orders by flying over the enemy lines and engaging German aeroplanes which were not attacking you and thirdly,” he sighed, “that you went to the aid of Lieutenant Holt landing your aeroplane behind enemy lines and jeopardising yourself, your gunner and your aeroplane.”
I continued to chew. Gordy said, “Well? Aren’t
you going to say anything?”
“What can I say? I am guilty. I did all of those things and I disobeyed standing orders. As for the wilfully… well I am not sure what that actually means.”
They looked at each other. Gordy laughed, “What did I tell you?”
Captain Marshall shook his head, “The major has convened a court martial. He and two other majors from other squadrons will be on the panel. They will be chosen by the major. Lieutenant Hewitt, here, will defend you.”
I slapped Gordy on the back, “That is excellent.”
“The fact that I haven’t the first idea what to do is irrelevant. I will have to muddle through.”
“And who is the prosecutor?”
The captain looked uncomfortable. “Me.”
“Oh.”
“I tried to get out of it but the major insisted that we need a more senior officer than one of the lieutenants.”
“Don’t apologise sir. At least I know I will get a fair trial from you.”
“That you will, Bill.” There was real sincerity in his voice. I knew he meant it. “The thing of it is that I can no longer speak with you. There is only Gordy here allowed to communicate with you.” He shook his head, “In case you influence the witnesses.” He shook my hand. “Good luck, Bill.”
After he had gone I put my tray on the floor and took out my pipe. Gordy lit one cigarette from the butt of his earlier one. “If the major is on the panel then he will influence the others. It is pretty much a lost cause.”
“Don’t say that, Bill.”
“No, I don’t mind. This will expose the major for what he is. I will be punished but I don’t think that General Henderson and the other senior officers will want this to continue.”
“You may be right but,” he took a deep drag on his cigarette, “I think the major is going for a firing squad. It is war time and it can be used. So you see we don’t want you punished. We need you found innocent.”
