My problem is often, to hit the keys correctly when writing...

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After two months at the Central Flying School attempting to teach others the intricacies of combat flying, and nearly getting himself killed on several occasions for his trouble, Major Burroughs had enough and demanded a transfer back to the front claiming it was far safer there. The brass hats, still reluctant to return one of their most highly decorated war heroes to the action, met the Major halfway and sent him off to 37 Home Defence Squadron at Stow Maries. While the Major was not happy about it he decided that if nothing else it would place him one step closer to getting an assignment back across the channel. With kit packed and goodbyes in order he made the trip over to Southend-on-Sea and up to his new home. A quick tour of the aerodrome and he was off to survey the surrounding countryside and get a feel for his new mount, the B.E.12.


Preparing for take-off.



Looking down on the beautiful Essex landscape.



The Major's wingman larking about.



Taking note of how reluctant the new mount is to hard turning. It's a real bus.



Cook's tour completed the Major returns to camp.



Settling back down on the field, the B.E.12 is one easy bit of flying.



Engine off and watching as B Flight makes their landing.

Certainly not the front but a lot better than the CFS. Artemus is glad to be away from the ham-fisted, mutton-headed student flyers and back in an actual squadron.

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Lou;

Welcome back Major Burroughs! Seems the bus is missing a little custom paint but me thinks time will alleviate this issue!

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Thanks Robert. And yes, custom paint will be coming in the near future. The Major needs to sort out just what it is he wants in that regard.

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Good to have you back with us, Lou - or half-way back!
I guess once you shot down a Gotha or an LZ, they may let you go back to France.

(You haven't lost anything yet - you are still ranking at the top of the chart.)

Welcome back, Lou! You will have to get a decent aeroplane as the BE12 is nothing to write home about. More power than the BE2 but just as staid. You might manage to catch a Zepp or a Gotha though.

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Thanks Olham and Jim, good to be back. Jim, the B.E.12 is a solid mount but as you say nothing to brag on. Olham, to my ranking, I was rather hoping someone else would claim that honour in my absence. Perhaps, as the Major will be flying for a while in a VERY quiet sector, someone else will slip into the top spot. And a Zep or a Gotha? That would be quite the prize!

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Welcome back, Lou! Interesting to see what will happen in Britain while your pilot stays there...

It's not easy to reach your top spot. The front is now going to be quiet for months, and Major Burroughs had his adventures in a hotspot sector.

However, is this really a competition? I'm just trying to keep my pilot alive! Every mission that I can pull off without losing him is a small victory in itself.

Happy Thanksgiving Lou.
Hope you have the pleasure of feasting on roasted Gothas as well as Gobblers today!

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Thank you Hasse and MudWasp.

Hasse, I agree, it should be interesting to see how things go in Home Defence. I further agree that it is really less a competition and more an exercise in survival.

MudWasp, Happy Thanksgiving to you as well. Enjoy the turkey, I know I will!

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Ditto to that - all new WOFF 2.0...


Indeed - the competition lies more in surviving longer than others - which may automatically gain you more points than them) -
- by being much more careful,
- by reacting more adequate on dangers
- by being less hotspurish and eager
- by keeping good overview

I myself have not reached that final status of enlightenment yet. Guess I never will...
Mmuahahahahaaa!!!

Happy Turkey Day everyone.

Bertie Cronshaw is dead. Flight of 5 Fees attacked by 6 Halbersdadts. Wounded, he got back across the lines and did make a successful landing. I was expecting a stay in hospital but instead was told he had died of his injuries.


Welcome back Lou!

Sorry to hear that news, Maeran

What was his pilot health level reduced to?

Damn, Maeran, what a loss!
And you thought you had made it...
Must have lost too much blood. It happened, of course, and is realistic.
I read of an Englishman who had landed his observer intact, but then he died.
That is tragedy.

Recover with some well-roasted turkey, and then maybe you'll start a new feller?

Just curious, what is the earliest date anyone has found for flying a Gotha?
March 1st 1917 is the earliest I've found.

Happy Thanksgiving to Lou (and welcome back) and all the other US Didders! Cam Fraser's latest letter:

27 November 1916
Malo, France

Hi Kid,

I'm writing this from a fine restaurant called the Taverne Charles, where I've just had the best meal of my life. I had a goose live pate, sole in a sauce that defies description, and an apple pastry dessert served in Norman apple brandy that they set alight. I walked here by myself this evening, looking for some time away. It's funny how coming back to 5 Wing made me nervous. A couple of trips over the front shook the dust off me, but I never felt settled. Maybe it was that I expected to be flying again with Jimmy Anderson, but his wounds are not healing well and he wasn't cleared for duty.

Yesterday morning, we drew a dawn bombing run over the lines, but as I began to pump up the fuel pressure I got petrol spraying all over my legs. I gave the signal for a dud engine and dismounted. Think some of the boys looked at me funny after, as if I had cold feet, but PO Hoskins has confirmed to the recording officer that the pipe to the gauge was broken.

In the afternoon we were assigned another bombing run -- this one a raid on the Hun airfield at Nieuwmunster, up the coast and about twelve miles into Hunland. There were seven Strutters in all: Tommy LeMesurier, Charlie Barlett, Howie Saint, Alex Shook (the boss -- another Canuck), Huskisson, and me -- with Captain Edwin in the back seat again. It was a lovely late afternoon flight, with the sun lowering over a sea of thick cloud below us. Fortunately the cloud broke up over the target, and we were able to send Fritz some excitement. LeMeasurier was leading and decided to take us down to shoot the place up. I wasn't overly keen on the idea at first, but soon got into the spirit of it. As we began home, still only 2000-3000 feet up, several Fokker monoplanes engaged us, and a wild fight followed. The Strutter can handle the Fokker on even terms despite being a two-seater. I got a really good crack at one and saw the pilot fall forward and the plane fall out of control. Couldn't see it hit the ground, though, as another Hun tried to get under us. Later I saw smoke rising from a crash site near where I hit the Hun, but Alex Shook said that one was Huskisson's. I'm not sure he's right, but I didn't put in the claim.

This morning Alex asked to see me first thing after breakfast and gave me surprising news. They have formed a new squadron, Naval 3, based nearby at St. Pol-sur-mer. It's going to be a single seater unit whose purpose is purely to hunt and destroy Huns. And I'm going over to it, he said. I was overjoyed. "Go get a fresh start," he said, and for some reason it feels just right to be leaving 5 Wing right now.

I reported at 11 this morning, and met the new gang. It includes some familiar faces from Chingford and Eastchurch, and still has some Strutters. But they also have received some of the absolutely lovely Sopwith "Pup" Scouts. They are a smaller, single seat version of the Strutter, and I'll get my first quick hop in one tomorrow.

For the moment, I am still flying a Strutter and my back-seat mate is a toffee-nosed Englishman named Quentin Salisbury. He is very posh, but incredibly naïve. I think I shall be teasing him unmercifully. This afternoon our acting squadron commander, Red Mulock (a fellow Canadian -- one of the first to join the Air Service, too) told me he had heard of my work in 5 Wing and wanted me to lead a Strutter flight until they are replaced by Pups. I won't be a permanent flight leader, as there are others with more scout experience, but it's a chance to lead. So this afternoon I led a massive formation (well, I went with one other Strutter, if you want the truth) on a very long flight to drop bombs on a rail junction. I found the place with more difficulty than I admitted and we dropped our bombs, badly scaring some nearby cows. Then we headed home without meeting up with any nice Huns.

My feelings are quite mixed up. That's why I took the long walk through Dunkerque to Malo tonight. But the more I think about the past week the more excited I am. Getting in a Pup will make all the difference.

Kick that cat again for me, kid,

Cam



The harbour at Dunkerque

Well, Well Raine;

Seems like Cam will be running into Albert "Mushroom" Ward very soon. I hope he has a taste for wild mushrooms and fine single malts!

Oh, and by the way, That is, as usual, a very fine report. You must write a book Sir!

Robert,

Ah, Mr Ward is a scholar and a gentleman!

Back from his walk, Cam's on his way over to Mushroom's battered leather chair in the squadron wardroom with an unopened bottle of Glendronach sherry cask whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. He's hoping to learn how to stay in one piece from the master.

It looks like a few more Strutter missions will have to be done before he's in line for a Pup.

I remember I died with 90% health after a friendly flak hit me and I safely landed. Good grief!

Aha, here it is: