Congrats on the promotion!

That formal language... argh! I wonder how complicated it was for a Field Marshal, if a mere 2nd Lt had to endure such a verbal barrage!

Ah, Olham, you answered my question. I wondered who the pilot was and so I went on a search through the WOFF skins folder and couldn't find a match for that red square with the skull in it. What Jasta did he fly in ? Thanks for the clarification.

Prince Friedrich Karl von Preussen was officially the commander of FA(A) 258, but he had this Albatros
ready for him at Jasta 2, and he loved to fly with Boelcke's lot as often as he possibly could.

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Well, seeing as how the brass hats forgot that January has thirty-one days and therefore assigned no sorties to anyone, Major Burroughs has taken advantage of the situation by flying one of the squadron's clapped-out Quirks down to Aircraft Park Dover. He slyly landed it away from all the hub-bub then made his way over to the depot master's office where he identified himself as Captain Corcoran, a ferry pilot sent there to bring a Pup to Dunkerque. As he was dressed in his full flying kit and carrying a small canvas duffle, all of which looked well used, no one questioned him further and handed over a brand new kite to be delivered across the Channel. Artemus quickly had the plane readied and took off posthaste. But rather than flying to Dunkerque to deliver said Pup he instead flew over to Saint-Pol-sur-Mer to call on his old chum, Squadron Commander Albert Ward. Upon landing he presented 'Mushroom' with the new kite and advised him to change the serial numbers with one of his wrecks, just to be safe. He then asked if the Devon cream had made it in good fare, afterwhich he opened the small canvas duffle he'd been carrying and produced the true purpose of his visit: not one but two bottles of 1892 Laphroaig he'd recently secured through private channels. He was promptly invited to spend the day and night with 3 RNAS and has graciously accepted the offer.

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Damn, Lou, you could make me switch sides for some of this whisky!
At least for a couple of hours, for two or three drams...

Hmmmmmm, I suspect Albert will have a story to tell....(keeping all under the hat from the brass so to speak!

I'm pretty sure it was a form with spaces for the name and rank. It even mentions that promotions will be published in the London Gazette, so a Field Marshal may only get, "Oh look here, Douglas. It says here that you are a Field Marshall."

I'm sure every government, but especially ones with royalty involved, have over-wordy official communications somewhere.

To non-existent 31st days! Huzzah!

I've flown only one mission this week. The following screenshot shows the result:



It was a simple arty spotting mission near Nieuwpoort and we had a few escorts from SK Sachsenberg. Well, as we approached the front, we were attacked by a big flight of French Nupes. Our escorts abandoned us without firing a shot and then the Nupes were all over us.

One by one all the Rolands were shot down. Oberflugmeister Niemann made it almost to treetop level when one stubborn Nupe managed to hit him with a bullet or two. As the screen became red, I was sure it was all over! However, the obsever managed to shoot down the angry Nupe. I could see it turn over on its back and then crash down on German side of the lines, trailing thick black smoke behind it.

Niemann didn't die - he was hospitalized for 9 days. The others were not so lucky. They were all dead - in total, 6 pilots and observers. The whole Abteilung was wiped out in a few minutes.

While Niemann was recuperating, the Abteilung finally received brand new DFWs! So at least I can now continue Niemann's career with a great two-seater.

I don't know what to do with the escorts. They don't even try to help us. When they spot enemies, they flee - always. This seems to happen with every Jasta. They can't all be suffering from bad morale in early 1917, when things seemed to be going rather well for Germany.

I'm starting to think there's something wrong with how WOFF handles escorts. Has anybody else experienced the same?

I have a very strong feeling that Niemann won't live to see the next summer!

Oh, and to add insult to injury, my claim was rejected. In fact it wasn't even accepted by the brass hats for inspection. Apparently there were no witnesses, even though the Nupe crashed behind German lines and probably a few hundred people would have seen the fight and the crash.



Current situation.

That's all I have to say about that.

I hate it when they do that - when they get target-fixated on me!


Well, that was a quick revenge - the guy couldn't even report his deeds!


What a massacre! I guess you are under shock now.


The DFW should lift your spirits into higher, azure safety.


You should report it to the devs, and send the log files they need to check.


It will get more and more dangerous after spring for all flyers, and your feeling
is almost a logical one. Chances are very slim. But let us try it.

Glad you lived to fly again, Hasse.
The new DFW C.V. should be a nice upgrade!

Major Burroughs and Commander Ward decided to embark on a clandestine dangerous mission deep behind enemy lines in order to address the shortages of a needy friend and compatriot. They hoped that this would be the only such mission that they would have to undertake before wars end. The cover was that both men had decided to test out the new Pup Artemus had brought over from Blighty. In order to ensure that nothing un-towards should happen to the craft while in flight, Commander Ward took a spare Pup up to accompany Burroughs. The Brass were informed that this would be an endurance test and so they should not expect them back at base for some time. When they finally arrived they exclaimed that the new Pup was a fine machine and that they would recommend it for front line service. Both men went directly to Ward's tent to imbibe in some fine Barbados rum with Scones and Devon cream which Artemus had seen fit to bring from Blighty. A fine time was had by all!

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Such special missions as these, when successful, can serve to shorten the war by months, potentially saving countless lives, (though a fair number of brain cells must be sacrificed, but that seems a fair trade-off).

.

2

Well, if the slogs at the front can have a Christmas truce, then we should be able to play our part Eh Burroughs?

Hahahaaaa!!! How cool is that? Lovely little video, Robert!
And then the "parachute parcel" - it arrived in one piece, boys, thank you so much!
Now I'll search the mess kitchen for the best suiting glass (rushes off...)!

Cheers!

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That little sojourn was more than a bit risky for Albert and Artemus, but as Edzard and Albert were old school chums from before the hostilities it seemed worth it. And as Artemus is always up for a lark, particularly one that flies in the face of the brass hats, he was quite willing to go along with the whole affair. There were a few raised eyebrows though when they returned just before sunset claiming that mechanical troubles with the Squadron Commander's mount had forced them to land at Clairmarais and wait about while it was repaired. But as no one had any proof to the contrary, and as a fair amount of fine liquor was being offered about, attentions quickly shifted to other things of more immediate import. Where the doubtful looks really appeared was when Mushroom and Arty landed at Souilly to take on petrol and ask about the location of the Hun aerodrome near Frescaty. While the Capitaine de l'escadron had more than a few questions about what a pair of British scouts were doing in the Verdun sector making such inquiries, Artemus, (who speaks passable French), was able to convince the man that their intentions were quite above board. The offer of several packs of Murad cigarettes and some fine Swiss chocolate, which the Major had stowed in his small duffle for just such a contingency, seemed to quell all further concerns of the French officer. So, with suspicions allayed and tanks full, the intrepid duo took off and made the short hop across the mud towards Metz and delivered their package amid light clouds and lighter Archie. By the time they landed back at Saint-Pol-sur-Mer the petrol was nearly spent as was thier energy and it felt good to sit in the tent and relax after a job well done. 'Relax' in this context meaning they ate and drank and sang songs and generally raised the roof until the wee hours.

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[Translation:
Really fine chaps, Artemus and "Mushroom" -
risked their necks to bring this whisky
over here! I'll savour it!
I'll return the favour with 'Black Forest kirschwasser'
and mirabelle plum brandy - they will most ceratinly
like that too.]

Good story telling guys!

Very nice piece of work on the Graphics Olham

Mmmmmmm, (drooling at the reading). It was a good choice to fly on the 31st of the month since the brass don't know of the existence of that day. It seems their WOFF calendars only end on the "30th" day of the month. There will be no records kept of that flight, and Olham will probably tell his C.O. that the whiskey fell from the heavens!!