WE ARE TIRED OF WAITING

Pretend you are at the DMV office.


Wheels

Flies and Flyers
19 August 1917
Dommartin les Toul Aerodrome

The next morning I awoke with a terrible headache and a disturbing inability to stand! The world seemed disturbingly tilted to the left, sending me reeling across the room as I tried to correct for it.

The surgeon was sent for, and he diagnosed an ear infection, of all things. The cold and the wind must have brought it on, and now I was to be grounded. I remained in my bed, fighting back the nausea, for two days.

Finding myself able to stand on the third, I went to visit young Lafayette in the dispensary. The wound in his leg had become infected, growing large with horrible red meat spreading the cut the doctors had made over it; while he tried to put on a brave face, it was clear that the sickness was beginning to overwhelm him. By saying he was unafraid to lose the leg he admitted his nightmare, and a conversation with the doctors confirmed it was a very real possibility.

I was chatting with Lafayette when a nurse arrived with a large jar covered with a cloth and wearing a smile that told us something very bad that would be good for him was about to be administered. Placing her tray to the side, she told me to remain and talk to the patient, as while the treatment would not hurt it was best he be distracted.

The bandages unwound, the unmistakeable smell of rot and spoil that was ever faint around him rose to cover us, disturbing the Lieutenant and sending the small grin he had painted on his visage into the nothingness of the air. The nurse quietly began to place her hand in the jar, move it to the wound, and back again in small motions, working a metal probe with the other, pushing what looked like bits of white cotton around. Satisfied, she covered the wound with a fresh bandage, gave the universal "all done, that wasn't so bad" smile, and left.

Lafayette looked at each other in silence, reaching agreement without a word.

I moved down the bed to his leg and carefully unwound the dressing, jumping back when I saw what it revealed. It wasn't small bits of cotton she had placed on the spoiled flesh, but a light covering of maggots! I was horrified, but this brought a laugh from my Frenchman comrade.

I had never heard of such a thing - placing such vile things on a living body - but apparently it was common practice in France. Lafayette took it as a positive sign, as it signalled the doctors were not ready to saw his leg off quite yet. He explained that they would eat the bad flesh but not the living, cleaning the wound expertly and halting the infection.

Shivering from head to toe despite the heat, I fled to the safety of my quarters at the rear of the hangar, pausing only to vomit before entering.

It gave me nightmares, and I avoided Lafayette for the remainder of the week, when I was finally pronounced fit enough to fly:



For once they summed up the weather appropriately - while it was indeed overcast and the fog made for poor visibility, at least it wasn't raining cats and dogs!*



The main Touls aerodrome looked ghostly through the mist:





Soon enough the factory we were to patrol around came into view.





As we began our circuit, the dust and muck of the front mixed with the wet air in the distance.



Tucking in with the ever impatient Rendell, the rest of the flight fell behind.



Taking a lesson from what we'd experienced before, I ensured to look behind us - too often the rear of the flight had been engaged by the enemy while we were focused on what lay before us.



A lone machine stalked high, but disappeared before we could identify it!



And then another flight slipped out of the mist and near us. I frowned in my goggles as we curved in closer to inspect.



Ah, the British had arrived to show off their huge flying machines!



I was glad to see them, as the lone plane high above us seemed to have a twin. It was too high for us to see what it was, and we were thankful when the pair seemed to take no interest in us and fly on.



I couldn't resist a chance to inspect their brown beasts, and chased down to give them a closer inspection!







Turning away from the Tommies, I rejoined my own flight.

















Soon it was time to return to our aerodrome, the skies free of the Hun! I sipped some warm coffee from my flask, thanking Rene for his thoughfulness and my own fortune for not having been separated from the flight and forced to find my own way home.



Nearing Touls, however, the shape of flying machines resolved themselves. I was quite displeased, as too often what I thought would be friendly aeroplanes turned out to be German two seaters.





My luck held, however; it seems the British flight had preceeded us!







Moreover, they seemed to be bypassing the main Touls aerodrome and heading for our own.





Sure enough, they took up a circuit and made to land at our own field!



I slid my way into their flight, taking a position in the order from their number two.













These machines are so quick in the air that I had to back away from them.



Still, though, I think they landed longer than they thought and were definately suprised by the hill that fell from the bottom of our turf strip.



I landed short of them, coming down right over the hangars low enough to hear Rene shout at me over my blipped engine, and with his help brought my machine clear of the other aeroplanes. I jumped down to watch the others land.

Rather than follow my example, though, the Tommies followed their leader in a display of fine flying (they each managed rolling down the hill without incident) and poor judgement (it seemed too risky an effort just to keep their machines together on the ground). I took the truck down to them, exchanging our mechanics for their pilots, and then back to the hangars.

They were pleasant enough, and explained that their squadron had just been transferred to our sector, and had landed as a means of introduction. They misunderstood our frowns when they said the reason for this was the need to carry the fight across the lines and fight the Germans in offense rather than defensively; when it was explained to them they looked most embarrassed, and expressed dismay that we had been restricted to the west of the mud.

They also brought news of a new machine the Germans had placed into the skies - a three winged scout that was reported to turn within its own length, and armed with twin machineguns.

A spirited debate ensued on tactics against them. The British with their fast SE5a's were certain that slashing attacks would be the key to downing them, while we believed that forcing them to make those tight turns would bleed their energy until they were easy prey, and that teaming up on them would be the best tact to take.

There was an element of the theoretical in our tone, though. The whole of the Escadrille was as dour as the weather over the types of missions we had drawn, and it would probably be unlikely that we would ever encounter them.

I checked on Lafayette, who looked much better. While the thought of having larvae eating on him still made me ill, I could scarcely debate that they had done their job well.

* I hadn't turned "drops" on in the settings!

Oh no ! Now he has taken to teasing and taunting us.

LOL, not quite!

But you did get to see a bit of how the AAR sausage is made!

Out of sheer curiosity: Did they use maggots already in WW1?

I thought it was a rather recent development, but I'd be interested to know if this bit was indeed historical.

Oh, yes, they did use them quite a bit - recent use is simply revisiting an old treatment, much like using leeches to remove clots around a wound.

Remember, no penicillin or even sulfa drugs in WWI!

That's one of those cures that gives me the willies.


Wheels

Here's the teaser trailer for the next AAR:

That is going to add a whole new level of immersion to the story.


Wheels