Catchup posting for Albert Earl Godfrey

3 Feb 1917 @ 09h32 Patrol enemy lines near Monchy

At briefing we were told to expect 8 kn winds from the west with extreme cold, with fog, snow and heavy cloud cover from 6000 ft. I wondered why we were even going up.

Meintjes lead the flight with Hill Fry, myself, Hall and Mayall on wing.

“A” flight was to provide assistance composed of Graves, Pidcock and Roxburgh-Smith.

We completed forming up at 8000 ft. at 09h47 drifting in and out of heavy fog and cloud cover. Staying in close formation was extremely taxing, requiring constant attention and leaving little time to look about for Huns.

We were over the lines east of Arras at 09h59 just over 8100 ft. We were not able to make out the ground but for brief instances and the surrounding cloud and snow fall was so thick the Huns could have been close enough to shake hands and we would not have seen them. Meintjes led up back and fourth twice and then called it quits. We made it back to base at 10h38 and reported in to the R.O. The only thing we achieved was a little frost bite.


4 Feb 1917 @ 08h40 Patrol our lines near Athies

This was another day of extreme cold, fog and snow with heavy cloud cover beginning at 5900 ft.

Caldwell lead “A” flight composed of Meintjes, Pidcock, and myself. “A” flight was to provide top cover and was composed of Graves, Hill and Hall.
With the extreme cloud cover we never saw “A” flight again after forming up.

At 08h53 we had formed up at 8200 ft and headed first to Neuville St-Vaast arriving there at 08h58 at 9200 ft. We were still in heavy cloud cover most of the time with only occasional glimpses of the ground. We crossed the lines at 09h02, with Calswell leading us back and forth. I did manage to make out 2 BE2c’s and 2 Tripes during a short break in the clouds but that was all.

Caldwell lead us back to base and we landed at 09h39. Again we reported in that the mission was a washout due to the weather and we all headed to the mess to get some hot tea and sausage.


5 Feb 1917 @ 09h38 Patrol our lines near Monchy

At briefing today we were advised to expect Bitter cold with winds of 3kn from the WSW, but the skies would be clear and sunny. There was promise that if there were Huns at the lines, we would certainly have a chance to engage them.

“B” flight was lead by Graves and composed of Pidcokc, Roxburgh-Smith, Hill and myself. “A” flight composed of Caldwell, Fry, Meintjes and Hall were to provide top cover.

We formed up north of the field at 09h58 at 9800 ft and headed towards Etrun, arriving there at 10h00. We passed Arras at 10h03 flying at 11,800 ft and still climbing. By the time we reached the lines at 10h11 we were at 11900 ft. Graves lead up back and forth several times without sighting a single Hun in the sky. As we were heading back to base I spotted 2 DFW C.V. well above us heading east across the lines. Graves ignored them and we landed back at Filescamp at 10h39. I could hardly wait to get to the mess for some hot food and tea. I was chilled right through and shivering heavily.


6 Feb 1917 @ 10h57 Patrol enemy front near Vimy

It was another Bitter cold day but with Sunny clear skies. Wind was 3 kn from the NNW. Only “B” flight was tasked for the mission with “A” and “C” flights standing down.

Meintjes lead “B” flight composed of Hill, Pidcock, Godfrey, Mayall on wing and Hall. The flight formed up as usual, north of the field attaining an altitude of 11000 ft at 11h14 before heading out towards Vimy.

At 11h23 the flight crossed over Vimy heading for the lines at 13500 ft.
Some time shortly after, Godfrey spotted 2 BE2c’s closely followed by two other aircraft which seemed to be the target of our archie. The flight seemed intent on ignoring them and try as he might Godfrey was unable to make the point with the flight leader Meintjes. Godfrey took fate in his own hands, tossing jurisprudence out the window and broke formation. He headed down trailing the course of the two suspected enemy craft following the BE2c’s.

At 11h50 he caught up with what turned out to be two Halberstadt DIII’s. Just as he was gaining position they each broke into a turn in opposite direction, obviously intent on engaging the lone N16 on their tails. Godfrey wasted now time engaging the DIII that broke left, and managed to send several volleys into his port side. He again had an opportunity to drive him down in a diving attack. He then quickly climbed out seeking the other DIII that surely was trying for position on his six. He found it in short order and began an earnest attack head on, all the while taking short opportunities to ensure the first DIII was nowhere in the vicinity. It appeared to Albert that his first volley had disabled the second DIII in some way, as the DIII broke to run in a rather sloppy manner. Taking the opportunity that had been handed to him, Albert quickly swung on the the DIII’s six and moved in to finish him off. Remembering his previous experiences, he held his enthusiasm in check and waited until he was close enough to almost reach out and touch it. He sent several volleys into the DIII until he had to break off for fear of ramming him. The Hun began loosing altitude but clearly still in control and Albert was not going to lose this one. He dove down and sent several more volleys into the engine compartment, observing a smoke trail begin to appear. Albert climbed out and watched as the DIII began to spin down and hit the ground, leaving brown dust cloud where he slammed in. Albert felt sure he had driven down the first DIII and that it had either gone in or gone home. He climbed out and headed back to base to report his engagement and probably take a considerable dressing down for having left the flight. No matter, he was willing to risk it. The action had taken place on his side of the lines, very close to Neuville-Saint-Vaast and he was sure that confirmation of the kill would be possible, plus he was sure that the 2 BE2c pilots would be reporting that a lone N16 had driven off two Hun attackers. He hoped this would lighten the potential for a dressing down.

Godfrey landed back at base and reported in to the R.O. The rest of the flight had already cleared the office earlier and he was last to report. Confirmation of the kill had preceded him. Apparently the two BE2c pilots had reported on the lone N16, in addition to reports from the local Archie battery that had been harassing the Huns and had observed the action above them. As hoped for, Albert’s dressing down was somewhat as he had hoped for.

Godfrey's first kill:

Well the RFC got a new Pilot today. How he passed the physical I don't know !!




and his counter part keeps trying to up his score to no avail..

Oh boy!! We are going to confuse the hell out of the Hun!

ByckeyeBob, glad you like the stories.

Jasta 18
9 February 1917, Halluin

Aldi was in good mood. The weather was improving, there was less and less snow on the ground and best of all they were finally free of escort duty and were charged with patrolling the front. The three leutnants: Schwarzkopf, von Bülow and Strähle were walking to their machines on the field singing "A Hunting We Will Go" as loudly as their lungs would allow them, which wasn't much compared to the roar of their mounts' engines being revved up. They formed up over the aerodrome and proceeded to follow their assigned flight path. On their return leg they spotted some distant specks crossing the lines into enemy territory. They were accompanied by a barrage of black puffs of smoke exploding and hanging in the air marking their position. Aldi and the rest adjusted their vector to intercept and checked their guns. He squinted in hope that it will help him see further but it didn't. They had to get closer. Finally the specks became shapes and the shapes turned into recognizable aeroplanes. These were no scouts. Aldi wasn't too keen fighting enemy scouts in this rusty bucket of bolts, but Fee's he could fight. Oh yes, he could indeed!
He has heard of the British bomber's defensive circling maneuver where each machine protected the one in front, but this flight was in standard vic formation, probably not aware of the impending doom. He got close to the tail of the machine closest to him and opened fire from below. The engine started to emit faint stream of light smoke, at the same time von Bülow and Strähle reached their intended victims. Aldi kept on pummeling his "Vickers" until the engine seized and the Fee begun to sail. The gunner in the front seat of the gondola was slumped over the side and the pilot was fighting with the controls to keep the crate right side up.



He was helpless but Aldi knew they were high enough for the Fee to make it to the nearest airfield, be repaired and continue with the war effort. He was entrusted with preventing exactly that. The Albatros circled around and administered coup de grace. The wounded bomber began to careen out of control. Aldi followed him with his eyes for a while hoping to never be in such a position. He opened the throttle, pointed the nose of his Albatros below horizon and acquired the next target. They were getting close to La Gorgue and the anti-aircraft guns let them know they're not welcome here. By now the rest of Aldi's flight converged on the final target, but Schwarzkopf got to it first. Again, the attack came from behind and below. The bomber's engine exploded into thousand of pieces, damaging the plane and wounding the pilot.



It started an agonizing spiral down with the gunner trying to reach over into the pilot's pit to attempt controlling the plane. He was not successful. It crashed into the airfield and turned over. Aldi and the company turned around and began their flight back, dodging angry white puffs of Flak, which might as well have been an equivalent of shaking an explosive fist at them and telling them not to come back. Aldi's imagination had only one answer to that: "Not bloody likely!"

Who the hell !!

He said his tail fell into a tin of paint Sir.

I think he's trying for a section 8, put that beast on charge!!!

Jeff

Nice reports Gents. Robert, nice video. Great job of keeping your altitude against those 2. You scared me in your dives! Kept waiting for the Nieuport wings to come off.

Even Everheart is an ace now with 5 kills. He was able to bring down an Albatros that was attacking the reccy aircraft he was escorting.

Drago Duntz is having a tough time with Jasta 28w. On his last 4 missions he has had 3 engine failures and took down a balloon that was unconfirmed because his wingman was evidently picking his nose.

Wow, good stories gents.

From: Ward # 7 , Bed 5.
1 st Field Hospital
Boulogne, France.

Dated: June 15. 1917.

Last couple of days on sick leave in Paris, I have been to dinners and Art Gallery's . However, its time to pack and head back to zee front.

I still need to get caught up on my reading here, but I'm back in the game. Here is the first chapter from my new pilot.

Memoir of Demian Kraft

Part 1



My name is Demian Kraft. I was born in 1898 in the town of Sinsheim on the Elsenz River, not far from Heidelberg, the first and only son of Friedrich and Marthe Kraft. My mother had endured five daughters – Agathe, Marthe, Maria, Elsbeth, and Christina – ranging in age from fifteen to four when I came along to brighten my parents’ life. My father was ecstatic to have a son at last. My mother, predictably, was merely exhausted.

Father was a self-taught mechanic who, in 1908, began a small firm that built tractors. The tractor business did not succeed, but he had begun making various farming implements to pull behind tractors, and that business did very well indeed. By the time I entered the Realschule in Sinsheim we had moved into a fine house in the old town centre, close to the Rathaus. My three eldest sisters were married off by then – one to a doctor, two to lawyers – and life was good.

During the summers I worked in the company, where I learned to rebuild industrial equipment, or at least to follow directions while doing so.

When war came I was about to sit for school leaving examinations, after which I had to choose between attending the Berufschule to learn a trade, or to finish studies at a Gymnasium before attending university. Politics and literature were my passion. In this my mother was my main support, to the grave concern of my father, who expected me to serve my apprenticeship and take over the family business. But in twenty-five years of marriage had never won an argument with his beloved Marthe. Thus, in late June 1914 I left for my first trip away from home to stay in London with my uncle Max. Uncle Max was a grain trader, and I was to work as a waiter in a restaurant for the summer in order to improve my English before starting Gymnasium.

London was wonderful. But the highlight of the entire summer was a Saturday in mid-July when an English friend of my uncle drove me in his motor car – a first – to Hendon to see the finish of the London-Paris-London air race. I had never before been close to a flying machine and that afternoon I cheered myself hoarse as the American Walter Brock set his machine down a full two hours ahead of the valiant Roland Garros and became the first man to fly between the capitals and back in the same day. From that moment on I dreamt of nothing but flying.

My summer was cut short by rumours of war. Uncle Max stayed on, trying to place his business in trustworthy hands. I returned to Sinsheim just two weeks before Germany went to war. My father wasted no time in securing a contract to manufacture ammunition wagons and limbers for the army. I was recruited, not by the army but by the family firm. So many workers had rushed to join the army that we worked seven days a week (excepting Sunday morning) to meet our production quotas.

I turned 17 in June of 1915. A few days after my birthday I enlisted, requesting assignment to the Fliegertruppen. Already I had heard stories of the trenches and wanted nothing to do with the infantry. I was not fond of horses. So I explained to the Unteroffizier who interviewed me how I had been undertaking flight instruction at Hendon in England in 1914 when I was forced to return home. It was a blatant lie, but he seemed amused.

Only later I learned how unlikely it was that I would have been selected for flight training immediately on enlistment. Most others transferred from the combat arms. I reported to Fliegerersatzabteilung 7 at Köln. This was basically an assessment course, with much emphasis on fitness and smartness. I had much to learn, especially compared to the boys who had already served. I resolved never to complain, always to smile, and to take on the hardest tasks before being told. It paid off, and in December 1915 I was recommended for pilot training. I reported after Christmas to the Fliegerschule Schliessheim near München. I passed my first course here easily, finding the flying business a bit easier that was the case with most of my colleagues. When, on 15 May 1916, I was graduated from the school. After a short home leave, I was posted to a depot where I was tasked with making myself inconspicuous while awaiting assignment to an operational Kampfstaffel. At this I failed, because I attempted to get more hours into my logbook and while doing so I stunted a bit over the field. The Kommandant ripped me up for bum paper, then made me an instructor. I worked at this all the rest of 1916 while pilots with far fewer hours were posted to the front.

It was not until January 1917 that I received a posting to a Kampfstaffel. But before I could leave Schliessheim, everything changed. I was promoted to Offizierstellvertreter and posted to a Jastaschule 1 at Famars, just outside Vincennes and near to the front. This was unheard of, as I was to progress directly to single-seaters. Overjoyed, I made my way to France.


Jastaschule 1 -- the chateau at Famars

At Famars we were introduced to modern machines, Halberstadt and Albatros scouts. They also allowed us to fly some captured British machines, including the latest Sopwith machines. Best of all, we were billeted in a lovely chateau and ate very well. My instructors included several decorated leaders like Oberleutnant Berr. Ostvr Reimann, another fine pilot, instructed my group until 24 January 1917, when his Albatros shed a wing in the air and he fell to his death.

Finally, on 12 February 1917, I was posted to a newly-formed Jasta – Jasta 27 in Ghistelles, near the Channel coast. In one sense I was relieved as this was generally a quieter sector for a novice like me. On the other hand, it was a sector patrolled by pilots of the British navy, who aircraft were among the finest.

My war was about to begin…

Raine;

Glad to see you back in the thick of things, and on the other side to boot! Quite an interesting background story there! I was quite enthused to see Demian being posted to Koln and was anticipating his flying training sessions there at Lou's new training field. Alas I was sorry to see that there were no pics. Promotion to Offizierstellvertreter with no actual combat and then planted at Ghistelles opposite RNAS will be a tough test for Demian as you are well aware. The following quote comes to mind "Out of the frying pan, into the fire!"

I look forward to more of his exploits.

Cheers mate!

Albert Earl Godfrey

16 Feb 1917 @ 09h01 Patrol enemy front lines near Athies

Having spent considerable time over the past week drawing punishment duties for my errant ways in leaving the flight on the 6th, Albert managed to gain some time with the mechanics and work on trying to improve the engine performance of his N16. He had managed to squeak a bit more speed out of it but nothing he had hoped for. The engine design itself imposed limits. Never the less, he was anxious to take it up and mission to Athies would suffice to test his work.

At briefing they were told to expect winds of 8 kn from the NW with increasing thick clouds from 4300 to 8000 ft as the hours passed.

Graves lead “B” flight composed of Caldwell, Roxburgh-Smith, Godfrey, Rast on wing and Hall.

“A” flight was to provide protective cover and lead by Hill, with Fry, Meintjes, and Pidcock in tow.

The flights formed up just north of the field attaining a height of 9500 ft, just above the prevailing cloud cover, at 09h19. They then set out straight for Athies, climbing to 11500 ft at they passed over Neuville Saint Vaast, and then crossing the lines at 09h26. No Huns were visible in the vicinity and Graves turned the flight around to circle back for 5 km. At 09h27 he again turned towards the lines, and that’s when all hell broke loose for Gdfrey. His engine began to make a god awful grinding sound and he was forced to leave the flight. He cut his engine in an effort to reduce any potential damage and fire. Fortunately at 12,000 ft he had time to assess his position and decided that with luck he should be able to make it to Etrun airfield. If he came up short along the way he was relatively close to a number of roads that might offer a reasonable landing opportunity. He recognized the intersection of the Arras-Douai road with the Cambrai-Bethune road and quickly set a course due west looking for the Arras-Thelus road which would be directly in his line of flight. After several minutes which seemed like hours he was able to see it below with the tell take wishbone intersection leading north west towards Bethune. He followed the wishbone staying well west of it which should allow him to see the Etrun airfield on his approach. If things looked bad he could divert back to the road or turn south and catch the Arras-St. Pol road running just south of Etrun.

He was soon immersed in cloud which was a good indication he was below 8000 ft and loosing altitude as he approached the wishbone junction. It was like trying to peer through a bowl of French pea soup and adding to the tensions of the moment. Finally a break in the clouds came and he was able to see the wishbone junction just ahead. Staying the course and nursing every bit of energy from his glide he finally was able to make out Etrun in the distance and he still had about 5000 ft of altitude left. He circled the field approaching from the north where there was less tree cover to deal with and the assistance of the prevailing wind. Just as he was 500 ft from the ground he switched on the engine once more to give some added lift and security for the touchdown, and then quickly switched it off as his wheels settled on the grass. He drifted down field and just before coming to a stop he swung around into the wind.

He sat there much relieved and pondered the possibility that maybe he had messed just a little too much with the Le Rhone without properly testing it before the mission. He hoped that it wasn’t something that he had done.

I am sorry to say I have no video to post. I inadvertently deleted the video capture while removing my old ones

Good to catch up with Godfrey's adventures, Robert. I forgot that Lou had done Cologne airfield. Now I wish I'd flown a training program. I like to savour Lou's work (done with your help, I know), so I don't immediate plop myself down in the new terrain. I prefer to just come across in the course of a career. Unfortunately I haven't had much luck. After lusting for Mossy Face Wood, I haven't flown over it once. And since my last career was RNAS, I never got to St Omer. All in time, though.

Fullofit, great Aldi story again. I'm really enjoying it. Be careful with Cyrus and his Tripe. I keep colliding with other planes when I fly them. Banjoman, that goes for you too!

Lederhosen, love the graphic novel approach to storytelling!

Carrick, read those brochures the Medical Officer gave you and stay away from the dancing girls.

Here is the second installment in the Demian Kraft story:

Memoir of Demian Kraft

Part 2

I arrived at Ghistelles [Gistel] in the late afternoon of 12 February 1917 at reported to the office of the Jasta commander, Leutnant von Keudell. His office was in a whitewashed farm house on the main road next to a broad field ringed with hangars. He was immaculately dressed, a true Uhlan, wearing the cross of the Royal House Order of Hohenzollern. I saluted smartly and clicked my heels a little too loud. The Leutnant smiled and bade me sit. [1]

“Offizierstellvertreter Kraft, you have a stellar assessment as a pilot,” he began.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied. This was going well so far. The boss was smiling.

“Of course that means nothing here. To be effective you must also shoot well, think quickly, and be disciplined. We will soon see what you are made of. See Leutnant Bessner, the adjutant. He will assign you your billet and your aircraft. We have a bit of a mix of machines at present, but you should at least get one of the older Albatros scouts. Unfortunately the weather today will not permit flying, but it should break soon.”

We chatted a few minutes longer, and I took my leave. While I was sitting with Ltn Bessner there was a massive bang and the window blew it. Fortunately neither of us was injured. The first explosion was followed by about a dozen others. Then it was quiet, except for the faint hum of distant engines. Bessner cursed. Apparently the British were very used to flying in filthy weather. [2]

“Probably a navy squadron,” said Ltn Bessner. They are frequent guests here.”

I found my billet about a hundred and fifty metres down the road towards the town – a small brick house occupied by an ancient Flemish couple named Sloot. They had a young servant girl, very shy and a little plump, but pretty. I shared a room up the narrow stairs with another new pilot, OStv Alex Berse.
The next day saw snow and rain. We endured lectures and inspections. Finally on 14 February we flew. I was told to fly alongside Ltn von Keudell. OStv Berse and Ltn Willi Rosenstein also flew. Our assignment was a patrol inside our lines, a good chance to familiarize ourselves with the terrain. After spending about thirty minutes over Ghistelles and its surroundings, we flew south and got a chance to see the front for the first time, a long brown stain across the snowy landscape. You could see gun flashes clearly, even from three thousand metres height.

We had just turned north when the Jasta leader waggled his wings. Enemy in sight! To him perhaps, but not to me. I saw nothing and simply followed the boss’s tail. I heard his machine guns fire and searched but saw nothing except the stained white carpet of Flanders rushing up at me. The boss pulled up and I followed. Then I saw something only a short distance off – two tan-coloured monoplanes. I drew closer, but the things were two-seaters and the gunner of the rear machine fired at me. For the first time I heard a sharp slapping sound as bullets hit my wing. I kicked the rudder and slipped under its tail. I tried to fire from that position as I had been taught to, but within a couple of seconds I had drawn level with the Englishmen and could see the gunner pulling his gun to my side. I fired again and swept under the machine – a Morane type – and came up on its other side. I continued that dance two or three times, firing each time. I saw no damage. This game was harder than I expected. Then suddenly the English machine rolled and headed straight down. I had him!!!

Only then I noticed that despite the intense cold I was covered in sweat. In seconds I was shivering uncontrollably. We patrolled for another half hour and headed home. On landing I was so frozen that the mechanics had to help me out of the Albatros and support me while I stumbled to a chair in the hanger next to a stove.

I claimed the Morane, but Ltn von Keudell laughed. The Englishman had simply rolled under me and headed home, he explained.

On 15 February I flew the second patrol of the morning. This was to be a test of my navigation. I was to lead Berse and Rosenstein south to our balloon line north of Menen. We found the assigned area easily and circled for an hour before turning north again. Suddenly I noticed a cluster of spots in the clear sky only a kilometre or so ahead. Rosenstein had already pulled alongside me. I pointed to the spots and he smiled, nodding his head. They were Gitterrümpfe – lattice tails, probably Vickers types, I thought.[3] We gave chase.

I was not supposed to cross the lines but we began to come under fire from British Flakartillerie before we caught the lattice-tails. We each picked one. I fired at mine from very close range and it began to tumble down. I picked a second and fired nearly a hundred rounds at it. It too fell, but this time I turned away and watched as it hit the ground. In doing so I found myself alone and slightly over enemy territory, so I set course for home and hoped the others had sense to do so as well. I would have to report my two Englishmen and was sure that Ltn von Keudell would be upset with me for having strayed over the front. [3]


"I fired at mine from very close range and it began to tumble down."


"...but this time I turned away and watched as it hit the ground."

I need not have worried. While I was off chasing Gitterrümpfe, Ltn von Keudell’s patrol had run into a Nieuport two-seater over Boesinghe. He downed it, but was shot and killed in the process.

My two claims were rejected for lack of corroboration.

Historical notes:

[1] Ltn v Keudell had begun his career with Jasta 1 and had 11 victories as of this date.
[2] The RNAS raid of 12 February was later reported in The Telegraph.
[3] At this time of the war, many German pilots assumed that the pushers they encountered were built by Vickers, makers of the pusher FB5 “Gunbus” of 1915-16. Kraft’s targets were in fact FE2b types, built by the Royal Aircraft Factory.
[4] The Nieuport 10 was from 46 Squadron RFC. It was von Keudell’s 12th kill.

Raine;

I love how you add the historical data to your reports. I seldom take enough time to research the facts. I must work on this weakness.

Raine:

MMMMMMMMMMM Dancing girls ! They have such inquiring minds specifically one . I think she called herself Marta Harry or Marta Hardy ? or something like that. She was fascinated with zee Military She Asked all kinds of questions till closing time.

Gilbear Du Bussy
Adj, Second Section
Esc 81
La Noblette Ferme,
Verdun, France.

June 16, 1917.


I had much turmoil getting back to the Unit. Firstly catching a ride over to Chatau Thierry was almost impossible. But manged a ride from the Aero depot. I then caught a ride, after wasting most of the day, with a supply Truck. Finally near dark, I was able to get the Esc on the phone and they sent a motorcycle with a side car for me.

Albert Earl Godfrey

16 Feb 1917 @ 09h01 Patrol enemy front lines near Athies

Having spent considerable time over the past week drawing punishment duties for my errant ways in leaving the flight on the 6th, Albert managed to gain some time with the mechanics and work on trying to improve the engine performance of his N16. He had managed to squeak a bit more speed out of it but nothing he had hoped for. The engine design itself imposed limits. Never the less, he was anxious to take it up and mission to Athies would suffice to test his work.

At briefing they were told to expect winds of 8 kn from the NW with increasing thick clouds from 4300 to 8000 ft as the hours passed.

Graves lead “B” flight composed of Caldwell, Roxburgh-Smith, Godfrey, Rast on wing and Hall.

“A” flight was to provide protective cover and lead by Hill, with Fry, Meintjes, and Pidcock in tow.

The flights formed up just north of the field attaining a height of 9500 ft, just above the prevailing cloud cover, at 09h19. They then set out straight for Athies, climbing to 11500 ft at they passed over Neuville Saint Vaast, and then crossing the lines at 09h26. No Huns were visible in the vicinity and Graves turned the flight around to circle back for 5 km. At 09h27 he again turned towards the lines, and that’s when all hell broke loose for Gdfrey. His engine began to make a god awful grinding sound and he was forced to leave the flight. He cut his engine in an effort to reduce any potential damage and fire. Fortunately at 12,000 ft he had time to assess his position and decided that with luck he should be able to make it to Etrun airfield. If he came up short along the way he was relatively close to a number of roads that might offer a reasonable landing opportunity. He recognized the intersection of the Arras-Douai road with the Cambrai-Bethune road and quickly set a course due west looking for the Arras-Thelus road which would be directly in his line of flight. After several minutes which seemed like hours he was able to see it below with the tell take wishbone intersection leading north west towards Bethune. He followed the wishbone staying well west of it which should allow him to see the Etrun airfield on his approach. If things looked bad he could divert back to the road or turn south and catch the Arras-St. Pol road running just south of Etrun.

He was soon immersed in cloud which was a good indication he was below 8000 ft and loosing altitude as he approached the wishbone junction. It was like trying to peer through a bowl of French pea soup and adding to the tensions of the moment. Finally a break in the clouds came and he was able to see the wishbone junction just ahead. Staying the course and nursing every bit of energy from his glide he finally was able to make out Etrun in the distance and he still had about 5000 ft of altitude left. He circled the field approaching from the north where there was less tree cover to deal with and the assistance of the prevailing wind. Just as he was 500 ft from the ground he switched on the engine once more to give some added lift and security for the touchdown, and then quickly switched it off as his wheels settled on the grass. He drifted down field and just before coming to a stop he swung around into the wind.

He sat there much relieved and pondered the possibility that maybe he had messed just a little too much with the Le Rhone without properly testing it before the mission. He hoped that it wasn’t something that he had done.


17 Feb 1917 @ 09h52 Patrol to enemy front lines west of Lens

At 9h30 A and B flights were in briefing familiarizing themselves with the objective of the coming mission. They were to expect 8 kn winds from the SSW with significant low cloud cover, possible drizzle and mist starting at 5000 ft. Clear skies were available above 9000 ft.

Caldwell lead “B” flight accompanied by Fry, Hill and Godfrey. “A” flight was tasked to assist and was lead by Graves, with Roxburgh-Smith and Hall in tow.

Both flights formed up at 9000 ft., having climbed through the prevailing cloud cover and then set out directly for the lines at 10h14. They continued to climb and when they reached the lines at 10h19 they were at 11,900 ft.
Caldwell swung the flight into a wide circle to port and then back across the lines towards Loos. They arrived just south of Loos at 10h24 cruising at 12,000 ft. Again, Caldwell turned the flight to port, making for the lines again. Arriving there at 10h35, Albert noticed “A” flight up ahead, in the process of a rather fast descent. He was convinced that they were in the process of attacking some enemy craft and wondered why Caldwell was oblivious to it.
He wanted dearly to join the fray, but did not want to incur the wrath of the commander by repeating his previous mistake, so he wiped the thought from his mind and carried on.

Caldwell again began to swing the flight into a wide turn to port and back again towards Loos. Once south of Loos, Caldwell began the descent towards Filescamp.

They landed at Filescamp at 11h05 and while making their way to the RO, they heard more N17’s coming in to land. It was “A” flight, all in tact, and they were waggling their wings as indication of a successful romp with the Hun.

Caldwell stopped to wait, as did all the rest of “B” flight, anxious to hear of the escapades. Graves and Hall approached them, with Rosburgh-Smith in the middle with his arms loosely hung over the shoulders of the pair.
“A round is in order for my two compadres” shouted Smith. They each downed a Halb DIII of Jasta 30.” His voice trailed away softly as he continued, “Mine got away!”.

Both flights continued on to the RO to hand in their reports.

Albert wondered when, He would get a chance to earn a few free beers.

[video:youtube]https://www.youtube.com/edit?o=U&video_id=NKZ8Jf2MNXI[/video]

Gilbear Du Bussy
Sous Lieutenant
Esc 81
La Noblette Ferme,
Verdun, France.



June 18, 1917.

I was promoted to Sous Lt during the morning line up. Then it was into the air jr. bird men to attack the Verdun rail spur line nestled in the hills.. We made 3 passes doing very little damage . I landed at a Friendly Aerodrome to check for damage.

Raine, come on man, footnotes! You're killing me.

I know, he should have had it incorporated into the narrative. Slacker!
Great reports everyone, as always.