Albert - Those foolish DFWs looked a bit low when they bombed the field. They pay the price for their lack of vision...
Here I thought Kevin was going to head into a romance, so did Beery, but we were both of us wrong apparently. Kevin is an Oak. No doubt the horrors of the ground war have given him some thicker skin.
Many Huns falling but the butcher's bill is high. Unfortunate about young Gilly and Marshall.
Congratulations on 46! In a month no less. Good Show!

Carrick - The wily Henri has some hunting instincts it appears. Nicely done on the stalk through the clouds. Takes some nerve to pull that off. Sacre bleu! These claims officers reject Henri again. C'est une outrage!
Way to bounce back! Doom on les Pfalz. Alas for the poor Breguet. Congrats on number 10.
Holy Merde! I saw that last pic of Henri's SPAD halfway into the ground and feared the worst. Glad he walked away unscathed. Whew!

Fullofit - on the subject of impossible maneuvers the DVIIs have some funky pirouette thing going on. Maybe it's realistic since the were known to hang on their props but it does look a bit weird. Scary as all hell too as you will learn below.
Devastating pic of the airfield funeral pyres there.
What's with the great DVII switcheroo? Not liking this plan at all.
I like the sticky throttle even less. Just not a fan of sticky, unless it's toffee pudding at that only at Christmas.
Are the material shortages starting to show up as defective engine parts. Good thing there weren't pesky Franzmen about when the Mercedes coughed up a hairball.
Those high alt dead stick landings always command one's full attention. Nicely done getting home safely.
Another two seater takedown clinic. The two planes circling on top of that cloud shelf was very cool.
Klaus pushing it there staying engaged with the proverbial sluggish controls. Dangerous. Very dangerous.

MFair - The iconic Michael Conrad. What an amazing show that was.
Time for you to get back into the WOFF, my friend. Hope all goes well. Hurry back.

Raine - Fingers crossed that eye#2 went as the first procedure.
___________________________________________________

OK Folks, this is gonna be a long one. I'll pause while you get a coffee or make your preparations. Figured it would be easier to follow if I dropped it all at once.
_________________________________________

À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 94



14 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Up early despite the late night. Foul weather continues. Solid low overcast and increasingly high winds. We won’t be flying today. Good thing. The revels went late last night. Let the boys sleep in. They’ll need the rest.

Thirty minutes on the bag set me right. Col. Cairnes called just after breakfast and washed us out for the day. Most of the men slept thru lunch, a few I didn’t see until dinner.

Poor Lindo won’t return to the squadron. He’s on a hospital ship to England. I’ve promoted Lawson to acting Recording Officer.


15 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

No flying for me today, except the desk. Just as well, neither patrol found any Huns.
Gave the bag a full hour, then took D330 up for some gunnery practice.



16 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Weather unsettled. Tagged along with B Flight on the afternoon patrol. No e/a sighted. Where are all the Huns?

Johnson has orders to Home Establishment. He’s certainly earned a rest but his departure leaves 24 squadron without one of it’s best Flight Commanders. I told him I didn’t want him flying combat patrols now that he’s for England. Typical Johnson, he wouldn’t hear it and I didn’t force the issue.

 
17 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

No patrols until mid-morning. Slept until 7.00. Bliss!

11.15 Combined patrol of all three flights. A Flight had the top cover. I flew deputy to Lowe with B Flight in the middle. C Flight was on the bottom. Over Villers-Bretonneux we got into one hell of a fight. At least 10 Fokker biplanes, painted all different colors tangled with C Flight. One red-nosed job had a blue fuselage with white skull and crossbones.

As A and B Flights descended to the attack, I latched onto a white tail chasing Lambert. When Lambert broke high left and I gave the Hun a solid burst from 30 yards. The bullet stream lanced through the cockpit. I could see the pilot slump to the right. His machine followed.


“…His life came out through the wound of the spear-stab
in beating haste, and a mist of darkness closed over both eyes.”

The rest was snap shooting and clearing Huns off SEs. The remaining DVIIs scattered east like roaches, their numbers much reduced. Reformed the squadron and continued to the patrol until 12.40.

Four victories, no losses. In addition to my white tail DVII, McDonald, Barton, and Johnson tangled with the blue skull and crossbones Fokker. The Hun gave a very good account of himself but they shot him about and forced him to land in French lines. Lambert destroyed two, Hellett also drove down two damaged. Only mishap was Southey who broke his undercarriage landing. His machine pitchpoled but Southey walked away unhurt.


18 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Fair weather this morning but the clouds and rain closed in after lunch.

Sent a letter to George MacAlister. He’s with Grid Caldwell in 74 Squadron now and knocking down Huns at a fearful rate. With Johnson going to HE, I’ll need a top-notch Flight Commander. No way Grid would ever let him go. Spoke to Col. Cairnes about Johnson’s successor.

The skull and crossbones Hun turns out to be Kurt Wustoff! Currently fourth on the German list with 27 victories, he holds Blue Max, as the Huns call the Pour le Mérite. He was wounded in the leg. I considered going to visit him in hospital but thought better of it. If I come to know the enemy as men, it will make killing them that much harder. They need to remain anonymous Huns.

Sent Flight Sgt. Fisher and a crew to retrieve the blue Fokker from the French. The fin and rudder will grace our notice board. Fisher had the idea to make walking sticks from the propeller for General Rawlinson. I had him make one for Colonel Cairnes as well.

Yesterday’s Fokker confirmed. One Hundred Thirty-six.


19 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Low clouds and rain all day. No flying. Time for the men to catch up on rest, or more likely Les Femmes d’Abbeville. Tonight was Johnson’s farewell. He’s off to HE. Telegram from Wing that he’ll not go empty handed. The French have awarded him the Croix de Guerre avec palm. I shall miss him greatly. We flew and fought together with 84 Sqn during the March Retreat.

Promoted Selwyn to command of C Flight in Johnson’s place. Col. Cairnes endorsed the posting and Selwyn’s Captaincy.


20 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Low clouds and rain all day. All flights grounded.
Another new man, 2nd Lt. Alexander Wren, arrived today.


21 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Weather still holding us on the ground. This morning McDonald was off to No. 1 British Red Cross Hospital in Le Touquet. He’s done in. I’m amazed he’s lasted this long. He came to 24 squadron in February of 1917. 14 months on continuous frontline service! 20 victories. Absolutely brilliant! He is a man of iron but he’s reached the end.

This afternoon, along with the news of Selwyn’s promotion to Captain, I received a telegram from Wing. McDonald has the Distinguished Flying Cross. I must visit him tomorrow.

Grid Caldwell telephoned unexpectedly. George MacAlister was killed yesterday. My letter only arrived today. I told Grid to send it along to George’s parents. I need to write them too.


22 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Took McDonald’s place leading A Flight this morning. On standby. At 10.00 exactly orders to intercept Huns at the lines north of Beaumont Hamel.

Found a flight of 5 Rumplers and chased them east. I started firing short bursts with the Vickers from 250 yards. Then opened up with both guns as I closed.


My approach lacked subtlety but a full drum of Lewis and 100 rounds of Vickers did the job.

Moved off to change drums then onto a second Rumpler. I hit him hard but the Lewis jammed after 20 rounds. He was smoking as I drew away to clear the stoppage. I’m certain I hit the Observer.

Chased down a third Hun and this time I held fire until I was within 100 yards.


I emptied my remaining Vickers belt and the Lewis drum into the third Rumpler. Trailing smoke, it began the long deadly spiral from which there would be no recovery. The Observer did not go gently.

His long-range parting gift ricocheted off the top of the Vickers gun, bouncing the shell or a chunk of metal across the frame of my goggles and shattering the right lens. I saw a huge flash in my right eye as the blow landed. It was like walking into one of Smokey’s jabs. It hurt like hell but when I forced my right eye back open a crack I could still see. There was something gritty in my right eye so I just kept it closed as I broke off and made for Conteville.


Watched the flight land with my one good eye.

Couldn’t remove my goggles without stabbing pain. The Medical Orderly finally undid the strap and gently worked them free. The frame of the goggle had slammed into the bone surrounding my right eye. Amazingly, the skin was unbroken. Several applications of an eye flush removed the irritating grit, but the surrounding tissue started swelling badly and I had trouble keeping it open.

Submitted a claim for the first Rumpler. Nobody saw the other two crash. Two Huns driven down damaged. Indecisive combat.

The MO made quite a fuss about what he called an orbital fracture. He calmed down when I told him I was heading to No. 1 BRX Hospital to see McDonald.

Corporal Chorley had the squadron Crossley in Le Touquet in under an hour. Long visit with McDonald. He looked exhausted but perked up when I gave him the telegram from General Rawlinson informing him of his DFC. McDonald ships to England tomorrow. I will miss him.

Doctor also made a fuss about potential orbital fracture. Wanted to keep me overnight which was out of the question. Radiograph showed no broken bone. Just a bump and a black eye then. Chorley had us back at Conteville in time for dinner.


23 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Woke to a painful right eye which I couldn’t open. Jenkins tut-tutted as he brought me tea and a biscuit. Looking in the mirror I saw the reason. Eye swollen completely shut. I had one hell of a shiner.

Weather barely flyable. A Flight went off early and aborted the patrol as conditions deteriorated. Nichols and Webb took advantage of my predicament to start a thorough overhaul of D330’s Wolseley.

Wing confirmed the Rumpler. One Hundred Thirty-seven


24 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

No flying today. Letter today from Cal. Mac Grider is missing and Cal wasn’t optimistic about him being a POW. Springs is convinced Mac is still alive but he’s the only one who really believes it.

My instincts about J. N. Clark were unfortunately correct. I’m glad now that I sent him back to the No. 4 ASD. The man’s done something so incredibly selfish and stupid that I won’t sully this chronicle with the details. He’s to go before a Court Martial in two days’ time.

2nd Lt. Thomas Harries posted to the squadron today.


25 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Eye still swollen but I can see some of the white now that the blood has drained away. I won’t be flying for at least another day.

E. B. Wilson of C Flight forced landed in flames on our side of the lines. Burns on his face and neck but he’s expected to live.

Lt. Edgar Hallam, our Armaments Officer has orders to the No 2 ASD. Not good news. Colonel Cairnes also perplexed by the decision. Flight Sgt. Ord will take over as Squadron Armorer.

Foster scored his 4th victory today, a Triplane. The fellows call him ‘Bunny” for reasons I don’t comprehend.

Lowe had a most exceptional show today. He shot down a DVII for his 8th victory, then seeing Daley attacked by a Triplane, he drove the offending Hun down to 500 feet. At this altitude, ground fire shot away half his prop. With Lawson’s assistance, I’ve put Lowe up for the Distinguished Flying Cross. My first such recommendation.


26 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

The third new man in a week arrived today. Lt. Robert Rose. They keep getting younger. What I need is my new A Flight Commander! I set Lowe training the three youngsters. I’m determined not to lose men unnecessarily. These three will not see a combat patrol until they are ready.

Comic Cuts arrived today. The list of honors and awards had a few familiar names including McDonald. As for the last one, I must speak to Beery about him.



B Flight were on the late afternoon patrol and wouldn’t return for at least 90 minutes. I’d seen 41 Sqn. land an hour ago so went over to visit Beery. He was alone in his office filling out a report. When I entered, he took one look at me, motioned me to a chair then pulled a bottle of whiskey and two glasses out of a drawer.

“You look terrible, Ripper. Did that bag finally hit you back?”

“Very funny. Are you going to fill those glasses or just taunt me all afternoon?”

“Patience, my son,” he said, handing me a glass of the amber nectar. “What brings you to see your old pal Beery?”

“I came to offer congratulations,” I said raising my glass. “Your man Carroll has the DFC. I just read his name in the Comic Cuts.”

“Yes indeed. HQ are still mum on the details as to presentation or investiture.”

“How many is he on now?” I asked.

“Twenty-two as of today,” he said.

“He’ll be passing you soon enough, old man.”

“That he will,” said Beery. “Does this sudden interest in young Kevin Carroll have anything to do with 24 Squadron needing a Flight Commander?”

“It does. Wing are talking their sweet time.”

“Out of the question, my dear Ripper.”

“I knew you’d say that, Beery, but I had to ask.”

“Here, drown your sorrows with this,” he said leaning over to refresh my glass. “I don’t offer 12-year-old to just anyone you know.”


27 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

I can finally see out of my right eye. Took D330 up this morning to 17,000 feet just to be sure.

Clark was found guilty by a Field Court Martial and is to be severely reprimanded. He got off easy.

Selwyn led a mixed evening patrol. I flew as his deputy with Lambert, Barton, Farrell, Passmore, Watkins, Palmer and Daley.

Over the old neighborhood near Chipilly we dropped onto a mixed bunch of Tripes, DVIIs and Albatri.


Cleared Daley then went to Lambert’s aid. D330 well ventilated as a result.

Stayed in the fight with sluggish controls. Tried to drop onto a Fokker but D330 could barely turn to the right. These DVIIs hang on their props and do backflips! Huns scattered after a sound thrashing.

On return to Conteville, Barton, Lambert and Daley tallied one Hun apiece, and with Passmore they drove down three others.

Today was Lambert’s 10th victory. Sent forward a recommendation for the DFC.


28 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Led A Flight on the dawn patrol. We attacked the Vimy Rail Junction and after 4 passes, we left it smoking.

Reformed and climbed West to 13000 before returning to Hunland on offensive patrol. Caught a flight of 6 Albatri amongst the clouds and after a game of cat and mouse managed to flush one low.


“He fell thunderously and his armor clattered upon him.”


An amusing moment this morning after breakfast. The officer’s latrine at Conteville is a ditch 3 feet wide, 3 feet deep and 15 feet long. A 2x6” plank forms the seat of ease and the entire ditch is enclosed by a screen of canvas on poles. For additional privacy, canvas dividers separate the various booths. I was at the far (less pungent) end and obscured from view by the canvas partitions set every 2 feet when I happened to overhear two pilots of 24 Sqn who shall remain nameless.

“Well, that was proper job this morning,” said A.

“Got the wind up, have you?” replied B.

“Ha ha. Just you wait until it’s your turn. I don’t mind telling you that every Hun within ten miles was shooting at us, and the Major kept heading us back in for another run. I must have 50 holes in my machine. I say, what do you think of our new CO?”

“A bit odd. Thrashing that great sandbag every day, and carrying around a twisted cudgel instead of a proper cane. Seems a decent chap, though… for an American.”

“Not a cudgel, a vitus, old boy. As for him being American, I don’t mind that. At least he’s not acting some d@mn Cowboy.”

“He is a bit of a fire eater, what? Did you see all those wound stripes?”

“That’s not the half of it. You were on leave when we had the binge in Abbeville. Our first stop was the bath house. I was in the tub next to him. Covered with scars, I tell you! He looked like a gladiator… Go to the aid of a comrade, whatever the risk. I’m all for it, but ramming home these bloody ground strafes… Now he’s got us training for the blasted things. We’ll all have wound stripes at this rate.”

“He does lead from the front, I will say. Came banging in yesterday and shot that Fokker off Lambert.”

“You know, I heard he pulled the wings off a Pup last Spring two days running and landed neat as you please each time.”

“I heard that too. I also heard he shot down the bloody Baron. More than once”

“Rubbish!”

“It’s true. When I was on leave, some fellow from 56 was having a tale. He may have embellished. Tight as Falstaff he was.”

“That makes all the difference...”
_____________________________

Gods be praised! Captain Tom Falcon Hazell MC, A-Flight’s new Commander, arrived this afternoon. 20 Victories last year with No. 1 Squadron.


29 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Another hat trick. Selwyn, Lambert and Daley each sent down a Hun.

No word yet on yesterday’s Albatros.


30 June 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

Joined C flight on the mid-morning patrol. No e/a sighted.

Evening dispatch rider brought confirmation of the Albatros. One Hundred Thirty-eight


1 July 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

6.40 Patrol of enemy lines in front of Bapaume. Hazell led a mixed patrol of Barton, Selwyn, Hellett, Wren, Daley and Lambert. This was Wren’s first combat patrol. North of Beaumont Hamel – a flight of 6 Fokker DVIIs 2000 feet below.

I caught a white-tailed Hun on the bounce and put a quick burst into him. I went high and rolled back in.


I dove on him as he broke right. 30 rounds from Vickers and Lewis slammed into his cockpit.

The dying pilot snapped backwards as if arching his back. The reflex pulled the DVII up on its nose and into me! I pulled the stick into the back left corner and shoved the rudder bar all the way to the stop but I was carrying too much speed.

A tooth rattling crunch that followed felt and sounded like an exploding tree…

I scanned the machine in a panic. Both wings intact but not the tail.


D330 flew on, groaning in protest.

The ominous creaking put the wind up me but good. Turning for the lines I saw the broken Fokker falling to earth in flaming pieces. The damaged tail created tremendous drag. With the throttle wide open D330 barely made 80 mph. I needed to land. Made for nearest aerodrome.


Safely down at Valheureux, home of 56 Squadron!

Telephoned Conteville and arranged a recovery crew, then I joined Major Euan Gilchrist in the mess for breakfast. Gilchrist is a genial South African who also leads from the air. After a wonderfully heavy meal, and a quick visit to the hangars to see old friends, I returned to Conteville in the 56 Squadron Crossley. 1/AM Swift drove like the wind, as always.
D330 would be out of commission for the foreseeable future.

On the afternoon patrol, Lowe and Barton scored. Daley sent a balloon down in flames for his 6th victory.


2 July 1918
No. 24 Squadron
Conteville, France

No flying for me today, or so I thought. Nichols, Webb and Flight Sgt Fisher must have worked through the night to get D330 fitted with a new tail. When I arrived at the hangar this morning her fuselage was completely devoid of canvas. By late afternoon she was thoroughly inspected, back in her frock, and ready for a test flight.

Spent the day with Lawson on reports, reports, reports. Also wrote a letter recommending Daley for the DFC. In addition to knocking down Huns, his work attacking ground troops has been exemplary.

A delightful hour on the bag waiting for the afternoon patrol. Huns staying home today. No e/a spotted by either flight.

Colliding Fokker confirmed. One Hundred Thirty-nine