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#4382419 - 10/02/17 01:19 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Lederhosen's ride outshines all that I have seen so far in WOFF

#4382422 - 10/02/17 01:23 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: Banjoman]  
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Originally Posted by Banjoman
Here is the report for last week's activities. Robert, the numbers you posted look off because they are lower than what you posted last week. I went ahead and added them but you should probably check and if they are you can just correct the next time.


Banjoman, the current numbers are correct. Last weeks were not.


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#4382539 - 10/02/17 04:02 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Helmute von Hammer
Jasta 4, JG 1
Macrke , France.

Oct 2, 1917.

Assignment Escort 2 Dfw's from SS 23b. The Jasta's 9 machines just crossed the lines when 1 Se 5 dove on us. My schwarme turned into the diving machine when 4 more SE 's came down. Turn, twist,,and take pot shots at the e/a was the order of the day. I was making a bounce on a lower flying SE scout as 5 DH 5's joined in the melee. After much maneuvering, I broke free of the fight and went home. The Jasta had zero losses and a lot of holes in the a/c for Zero claims and the 2 Dfw's made it back.

Attached Files CFS3 2017-10-02 08-28-50-95.jpgCFS3 2017-10-02 08-39-19-13.jpgCFS3 2017-10-02 08-39-43-90.jpg
#4382557 - 10/02/17 05:00 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Banjoman Offline
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Carrick, how do you like the Pfalz? I've always enjoyed flying the Pfalz.


Member and provider of banjo music for the Illustrious BOC
#4382571 - 10/02/17 05:37 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: Banjoman]  
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Originally Posted by Banjoman
Carrick, how do you like the Pfalz? I've always enjoyed flying the Pfalz.

yep popcorn


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#4382723 - 10/03/17 02:33 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Raine Offline
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Nice story, Dark Canuck! Hasse, great to have to check in with us. MFair, I'm impressed by Edgar's success. Carrick, that is a good looking livery. Robert, you're doing marvels with that Nieuport. Banjoman, don't forget that I raise the rank only in the stories, not the stats, so scoring is unaffected.

Here is the second installment of Geoffrey Corderoy's story...


Diary of 2/Lieut. Geoffrey Corderoy, RFC
Part 2: 1-2 June 1917


1 June 1917

I am sharing a hut with three others: Marley, our resident Welshman; Barrager, a Canadian; and Normie Dimmock. Dimmock is our evening entertainment as he can bang out a tune on the mess piano and doesn’t mind doing so since he drinks only a bit. We back onto a pond, as I mentioned earlier, a scummy little lake full of the loudest frogs God ever suffered to squat on the face of the earth. Some of the lads are given to practising on them with their Webleys, but each evening seems to bring a new generation of croakers. Add to that the snoring of hut-mates, scuffling of field mice, the infestations of earwigs, and the constant rumble of the guns a few miles to the east and sleep is a precious thing reserved for the innocent and the drunk.

I had the early patrol this morning, and was roused by the batman, Ward, with a cheery hoarse whisper of “Quarter to four sir. You’re in the air in thirty minutes.” I’m not quick in the morning, especially as one must tread lightly or incur the wrath of one’s mates who are trying to sleep. It is still dark and the air is cold. There is time only to grab a piece of toast and a mug of tea which I bring with me in the tender that takes me to the hangars across the field. The engine is already run up and I chat with Lee, who is sporting the leader’s streamers this morning. He is chuffed about it, but there is a nervous crack in his voice as he reviews the signals we will use today. There has been a telephone call reporting engines over the lines near Arras so we depart with the first rays of dawn and head south.

Twenty fruitless minutes pass in our patrol area before Lee waggles his wings and dives towards a bank of misty thin cloud. I can see nothing and simply join in. Then I hear the bop-bop-bop of Vickers guns. I fire into the cloud. Only when the others begin to climb again do I see the H.A. [1], one of two Hunnish two-seaters about 300 yards off and a bit above us. Luxmore fires into one of the enemy machines, which begins to smoke and tumbles vertically downwards out of control. The other Hun vanishes. We patrol an hour more before Lee gives the washout signal and leads us home. Luxmore’s Hun remains only a “driven down” – not a confirmed kill.

In the afternoon we are back up, this time patrolling along the lines near Vimy. Pratt leads Lee, Marley, Lascelles, and me. We climb to more than 12000 and continue. The Pup is outclassed by the new German machines except at very high altitude. Before we reach our preferred height Pratt fires a red flare. Seven Albatros scouts are diving at us. We turn and twist – their seven to our five. I see the multicoloured wings of the enemy with large black crosses. They look awfully foreign. Then three more Pups join us, a patrol led by Courtneidge.[2] The Huns put their noses down and disappear quickly off to the east. They are much faster than our Pups, and their twin machine guns are immeasurably better. One can scarcely make out the firing of individual rounds. Instead one hears a continuing burr, like a ratcheted gear being spun. We reform and I count the Pups. By some miracle we are all still here.

Caudwell has been shot in the hand during a scrap this afternoon and is in hospital. Lascelles took his machine up late in the day and crashed it, so he is in hospital as well.

The day turned very warm and all the fellows headed down to the canal for a swim. I have not gone in yet. I am not a strong swimmer. Besides, the water looks filthy.

2 June 1917


Early patrol again, this time off the ground just before five. We’re back to the Arras sector. It is a cloudy morning with rain that stings like needles if one doesn’t hunch behind the windscreen. Above the lower cloud layer the rain stops but the sky is still grey.

We spot some hostile-looking specks crossing the lines and investigate. Suddenly a wild melee erupts with what turns out to be a large group of Albatri. One passes from left to right in front of me and I kick the rudder bar, skidding onto its tail. I fire my Vickers for the first time with a real chance of hitting something. The Hun flips on its back and disappears under me. He is mottled green and purple but has a red tail. I notice several other H.A.s, all of which have red markings. If the mess rumour is true, this is a sign of Baron Richthofen’s squadron. Now I am looking behind me, all offensive thoughts suddenly vanishing.

An Albatros with an all-red fuselage with a dark band around it circles behind me and I turn to meet it. For a moment I believe it is the Baron himself, but the wings are another colour, probably green. We turn and pass head on at one another several times. It is impossible to aim. The machine is moving too much and the view of the enemy is too fleeting. After a couple of minutes of this, the Hun decides he’s late for breakfast and pulls away from me. There is no hope of catching him.

My second patrol is with Captain Heath, the tennis champion. We are to fly deep into Hunnish territory and attack a rail yard where troops de-train. Heath decides to try using our anti-balloon rockets on the buildings and stockpiles. The flight down past Vimy and Lens takes the better part of an hour and I experience my first real taste of Archie. The first burst to come close was a bright flash with a greasy brown blossom. The flash and bang came close together but not close enough to harm my Pup. We made one quick pass and headed home. One of the warehouse buildings caught fire and we shot up the platforms and some horse drawn transport. I felt bad for the horses. Their terror is too pathetic.

Back at La Gorgue I overcame my reluctance and allowed Dimmock to talk me into taking a dip in the Lys. We call it a canal because it runs straight and is lined by a well-used tow path on one side and a row of poplars on the other. The fellows laugh and play like kids, and then we all retire to the mess ante-room in towels and slippers to drink and smoke or lounge outside in the sun until it is time to change for dinner.

It is a strange sort of war.

[Linked Image]
Joske, Courtneidge, Lee, Asher, Marchant, McDonald, Kay

Notes

[1] Hostile aircraft

[2] Charles Courtneidge was the son of Edwardian theatre producer Robert Courtneidge and the brother of actress Dame Esmerelda Cicely Courtneidge DBE. Dame Cicely appeared on the London stage into the 1970s. Charles later appeared on stage and in films in the United States.

Attached Files Apres swimming.png
Last edited by Raine; 10/03/17 10:44 AM.
#4382728 - 10/03/17 03:03 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Banjoman and Mr. wiggins: I like it as long as its not full DiD. The view from the office is as bad as the Spad

#4382873 - 10/03/17 05:21 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Helmute von Hammer
Hauptmann,
Jasta 4, JG 1
Macrke , France.

3 Oct 1917.

Busy day.

1. Promoted to Hauptmann
2. Escort Flight: Chased away 3 Bis fits from our 2 Recon ships. No kills,but Top cover had 1 missing.
3. My 5 a/c encountered 2 Sopwith's Forcing down one on our side of the lines ( Victory # 8 ) No losses didnt see what happened to the other e/a.


Attached Files CFS3 2017-10-03 09-31-34-78.jpgCFS3 2017-10-03 10-02-58-08.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 10/03/17 05:22 PM.
#4382995 - 10/04/17 01:06 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Raine Offline
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Congratulations on the promotion, Carrick!

Any hopes I had for improved luck with claims were dashed in my next two flights...

Diary of 2/Lieut. Geoffrey Corderoy, RFC
Part 3: 3 June 1917

3 June 1917


I am assigned to stand-by today. This is a new game invented by Brigade. We lounge about carrying our flying kit, unable to swim or leave the field while we wait for someone to telephone with news of the Hun. Then we run to the hangars and take off. At six in the morning the call comes in: Huns in the air over the Ypres-Menin sector. The sun is up and we’re off, Kay in the lead with Joske, Lee, Luxmoore, Marley, and me. Health comes along for the laughs. The weather grows cloudier and rain is in the air. We patrol over the front and spot a number of HA circling over Menen, so we make inquiries. They are older Albatri. I get behind one and fire into it at close range. The pilot is obviously new. He panics but does not evade effectively. A second burst sends him tumbling to earth out of control. I look about and find myself alone and so return, delighted. Unfortunately I have no witness and my claim is rejected.

[Linked Image]
"A second burst sends him tumbling to earth out of control."

Shortly after lunch we are relieved of stand-by but inherit a new show. The brass hats want a crowd to mind some BE2 merchants on a photography stunt back in Menen. It is properly drizzling now, but the wind is light so off we go. We are a hodge-podge crew, made up of whomever hasno other assignment. Both Heath and Pratt are with us, but they hand off the streamers to Luxmoore. It is his first time in front and he stammers through his briefing at the hangar. Marley and I are together at the rear. Odell, a new boy, and Marchand round out the party.

The BE2s parade about amidst the Archie at a stately sixty knots. It is ridiculous to think those relics are up against the likes of the Baron. Finally they signal their completion and turn southwest. But now out of the mirk comes a cluster of Albatri. Heath spots them first and fires a red flare. We turn in every direction. I had climbed off to the west of the main group preparatory to falling into station behind after the turn so I am able to watch the fight take shape from a safe distance. I pick a Hun that was turning onto a Pup’s tail and dive at him. “Closer” I tell myself again and again. A mere ten yards from the Hun I fire and see pieces fall away from his machine. I pull up. The Albatros’s prop is slowing to a stop. I turn back and fire again and this time he tumbles down out of control. I look about and see Odell a few hundred yards off. Did he see the kill? Odell flies off to the west.

[Linked Image]
"The Albatros’s prop is slowing to a stop."

I turn about. There is a pillar of smoke on the ground near where I last saw my HA. It is a mile west of Halluin, I note. I turn home. My neck aches from checking the sky around me and I am tempted to give it up as I approach our lines and the Hun Archies diminishes. I am back up to 5000 feet. I turn again, just in time. A nasty Albatros is about a hundred yards behind and closing fast. Kick on the rudder bar and skid the Pup around to the right. The Hun fires and the tracer flashes so close I can smell it. Kick the bar left and drop onto him. This fellow is red with some yellow. I fire into him. His machine shudders and tries to climb away. I shouldn’t be able to catch him but I can. He must be damaged. I fire twice more and he tumbles down. It is hazy below and I lose sight. Probably about thirty second later I look back. I am at our lines and lower now so I can see back to the east much better. There is a cloud of smoke, perhaps my HA.

[Linked Image]
"I fire twice more and he tumbles down."

Back at La Gorgue I claim both Albatri. Thompson does his best, calling the artillery and balloon detachments along the salient. But I was alone when I downed them and no one reports my Huns as down.

Three claims rejected in one day. I shall feel like a colossal bull-thrower in the mess. There is, however, nothing to be done about it. Of course it is Sunday and I did not attend church service. A vengeful God is laughing at me.

Attached Files Rejected DII.jpgrejected DIII.jpg2d rejected DIII.jpg
#4383016 - 10/04/17 03:21 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Raime: I am sure the review Staff and office personnel made a careful check. and paid attention Sqn's Claims. https://giphy.com/gifs/howard-hawks-RDN4vI3Upaj2U/fullscreen

https://giphy.com/gifs/howard-hawks-Sy8JyTguLH2aQ/fullscreen

#4383076 - 10/04/17 03:40 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Robert_Wiggins Offline
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Raine

Nice story and pics. I must get back to that venue when I have more free time. It takes me forever to work it up.

Regarding the claims issue, just have your pilot change his surname to "Bishop"! biggrin


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#4383078 - 10/04/17 03:49 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Helmute von Hammer
Hauptmann,
Jasta 4, JG 1
8 Victory's
Marcke , France.

Oct 4, 1917.


Mission: Airfield Security Flight
T/ a/c 9 mix : D-V, D-III 's and 1 Pfalz D-III
E/A: 2 Flts of Spads, Total 10
Claims: 1 Spad destroyed
Losses: 0 2 D-V damaged

Spotted 2 Flights of Spads at max altitude. Our schwarm attacked the 5 a/c to our west. A quick little knife fight then we dove for home we could not catch them. I landed at a friendly Aerodrome to check for damage ( 2 holes in top left wing )

Attached Files CFS3 2017-10-04 08-24-56-99.jpgCFS3 2017-10-04 08-25-39-65.jpgCFS3 2017-10-04 08-31-19-22.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 10/04/17 03:53 PM.
#4383216 - 10/05/17 02:13 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Raine Offline
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Still no joy with the claims...

Diary of 2/Lieut. Geoffrey Corderoy, RFC
Part 4: 4-5 June 1917

4 June 1917


Dimmock is on the first patrol and manages to wake me up well before dawn. I try to get back to sleep, but the latrines beckon and I dress for my six-twenty patrol and wander over to the mess in fug boots and sweater. It is still half-dark and cool, although the day promises to warm up nicely. Tea, toast, and two boiled eggs later the tender drops me at “C” Flight hangar where Heath runs through the signals and plans. We are to meet Strutters from 43 and photograph the lines near Messines. Activity is up in the north and we expect a push there any day.

We climb to 8000 feet and I find I have overdressed. It is surprisingly warm. As we turn east over Ypres I look down at the star-shaped fortress and try to find what is left of the famous Cloth Hall. It angers me that we are smashing European heritage into the mud.

Heath is gone! I search about frantically and spot our Pups behind me and to my left, climbing hard. Three dark spots are dropping out of the sun. These are keen Huns – attacking a larger group and on our side of the lines. Most unusual. I try to get behind one Hun. He has a black tail, and his machine has rounded sides, so it is one of the new-model Albatri. The H.A. turns below me and is gone. Suddenly all alone, I circle for a minute and search the sky about. It takes a while before I spot a lone Albatros making for home about a thousand feet above the trenches. It is an easy thing to overtake him, diving from 4000 feet. I catch the Hun just before he makes the German lines and fire a long burst from about 100 yards behind. There is no time to get closer. The Hun lurches up and to the right and I close on him. Another burst from my Vickers stops his motor and the Albatros begins to glide down. The cocking handle of the Vickers is up. I remove the small hammer from its holster beside my seat and hammer furiously at the gun, but the handle remains stubbornly in place. It is, I suspect, a split casing. For a week now I have inspected every round destined for my machine, but I skipped the practice last night and am paying the price. I watch as the Albatros settles in the mud just behind the German lines and noses over. There is mist near the ground, so there is no guarantee that the kill will be witnessed from our lines.

[Linked Image]
"I watch as the Albatros settles in the mud just behind the German lines and noses over."

The others have vanished and I head home alone. Safely back on our side I indulge is low flying, or what they call here “contour-chasing.” Near Hazebrouck a train is pulling into a station. I dive down straight at the oncoming locomotive, which sounds its whistle repeatedly in alarm. As I flash over it the smell of its smoke engulfs me. I do a roll over some marching Highlanders and turn for La Gorgue.

[Linked Image]
"I dive down straight at the oncoming locomotive, which sounds its whistle repeatedly in alarm."

My second patrol is at one o’clock, so I have an early lunch. Heath leads us again, an offensive patrol to Menen, which has become a hive of Hunnish air activity. We patrol in a line, but see nothing close enough to chase. The Huns we do see are not adventurous enough to approach us. Finally, Luxmoore dashes in front and signals. He has spotted two DFWs returning to their base. It is a wild chase. One must be careful when more than one aircraft attacks an H.A. It is easy to forget about one’s friends and collide. This is what cost the great and feared Boelke his life. I pull off to one side and await a chance. After about thirty seconds one of the DFWs turns across my front and I slip in behind and below. My first burst rakes its belly and causes the engine to emit blackish-brown smoke. The Hun skids left and I follow, but in doing so I am no longer under his tail. I fire and hit the machine again. Then the observer, whom I had presumed to be incapacitated, fires back. Two star-shaped holes appear in the little windscreen in front of my face and my goggles fall back over my shoulder. A round has torn the strap away, passing a hair’s breadth from my skull! Half blinded by the stream of air coming through the holes, I turn away and head home.

Thompson, the RO, informs me that my claim of this morning cannot be verified. That makes four unconfirmed claims in two days. I go for a swim to forget about my frustrations.

5 June 1917

Early patrol – off the ground at four-twenty, heading south this time to rendezvous with some FE2s from 20 Squadron. They are bombing an assembly area southeast of Monchy, in the Arras sector. The flight down is uneventful, except for some frightfully good Archie near Lens. We turn for home. Suddenly a lone Hun dives through us and has a go at the Fees. We chase him down over the ruins of Monchy. There are too many Pups trying to be in the same space so I pull up and watch. Heath gets close and fires and the Hun suddenly goes into a spin from which he does not recover.

In the afternoon we are back there, this time shooting up a rail yard. To our surprise, our rounds set a warehouse alight. There are no air Huns about and we return to La Gorgue in ones and twos.

The rest of the day is lazy, writing letters home for an hour or two. Most of the lads go swimming in the early summer heat. Some local girls come to the opposite bank of the canal and wave and call out, which is highly embarrassing so some and delightful to others. I can’t imagine the girls back home doing that. More’s the pity. I forgo swimming and wander into the village of La Gorgue to use the public baths and get a shave. I buy a bottle of cheap whiskey, which I later take to the hangars to share with my mechanics. This is the main thing I miss about the infantry – the closeness with the men with whom one shares so much. It is different in the RFC. The other ranks are ground-bound, whilst the officers fly. It is a barrier that is difficult to overcome. I sit on a barrel and chat, asking silly questions. The men are reserved and correct at first, but the whiskey does its work and they loosen up and begin to joke. I learn that they name nicknames for most of the officers but not me, they assure me. They are clearly lying but I don’t mind. Sergeant Norris, the lead mechanic, tells them that one drink is the limit until their work is done. I leave the bottle with him and wander back to the mess.

Rumour has it that Albert Ball is confirmed dead.


Attached Files 4th rejected claim.pngLoco.jpg
Last edited by Raine; 10/05/17 12:06 PM.
#4383310 - 10/05/17 04:01 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Wow, Good Story.

#4383313 - 10/05/17 04:04 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Helmute von Hammer
Hauptmann,
Jasta 4, JG 1
8 Victory's
Marcke , France.


Oct 5, 1917.

I awoke to see a familiar face and started to remember How I got here. We were on Escort for 2 Rumplers on a Photo mapping of the lines in Heavy cloud cover. Ambush, 5 or 6 Camels hit us just about all at one time. I took fire then kicked into a port turn when a Camel dropped on my tail. Taking hits I flicked over in a spin, but his bullets caught me in the lower leg. Spinning down over one of our forward Airfields, I was able to level out as our Flack opened up and chased the Englishman away. As I was pulled out of the machine I spotted over 18 holes. I later heard that we Lost Lt. Kinner's a/c for Zero claims. The doc said I wold be down for 9 days.

Attached Files 10068-8503 nurse disel.gifCFS3 2017-10-05 08-49-17-55.jpgCFS3 2017-10-05 08-49-36-07.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 10/05/17 04:16 PM.
#4383381 - 10/05/17 09:12 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Carrick, not again! I sense the Countess is on her way with a visit. Too bad about the leg - Helmute can't even hide.
Raine, that is another excellent series of stories. Love that shot at the rail station. Something tells me "someone" closed their pool for the winter too soon and now is having regrets.

7 June, 1917 Halluin
Jasta 18

Aldi fell out of his bed at 04:10 with a tremendously loud booms erupting behind the broken windows. The bed was covered with shattered glass. The ground was shaking and the blast of the explosions outside lit the sky as if it were the middle of the day. They must be bombing the aerodrome! He ran out onto the field in his long johns ready to jump into his plane and give chase. He met Strähle in the exact same state of undress and with exactly the same intent. The enormous sound of explosions has ceased and the earth stopped shaking. All other pilots who ran out begun to realize it was not an air raid. They were all looking north-west and pointing at the bright sky beyond the horizon. It was soon discovered that the British have launched a new offensive by blowing up 19 mines along Messines Ridge, right under the German lines. It was imperative to get some observation machines to go up and find out the extent of damage. Jasta 18 would provide protective escort to these observation planes. Aldi led his flight south-east of Ypres and could not believe his eyes what he was looking at. The hill that used to lie there was gone, instead there was an enormous crater of a size he thought would not be possible. There was still a lot of smoke coming from the debris smoldering around. He had to make sure it was not an illusion, some kind of an optical trick that the light was playing with his eyes. It was not a trick. Hill 60 was gone and with it, thousands of German soldiers. From this height he could not tell, but could only imagine the massacre below. Body parts strewn around. Entire bodies buried. Many simply vaporized by the blast. So many dead! How could this be? How could anyone let this happen? Aldi’s blood was boiling despite it being cold this high up. His mind was preoccupied for the rest of the flight. He needed to land soon. He needed a drink to get his mind away from the image replaying in his head. He needed more than one drink.
That evening the Staffel congregated in the Kasino. Grieffenhagen addressed all that gathered there and asked to raise their glasses to the fallen countrymen who have lost their lives in the cowardly attack by the despicable Englanders. The hour of retribution will come and they will pay dearly for everything.
Tonight they would also have to raise a glass to the memory of one of their own. Ltn. Ernst Wiessner has perished this day attempting to evade pursuing Fees by diving. His lower wing came off in the dive and he plummeted to the ground, crashing below. He would be missed by many.
Aldi was ready to dig a tunnel by himself all the way to London, but for now the two Spandaus mounted on his Albatros would have to do.

[Linked Image]

P.S.
Unfortunately Hill 60 crater isn't modeled in WOFF. It would serve nicely as another landmark to navigate and a somber reminder for Aldi to fight on.

Attached Files Mine Craters.JPG

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4383383 - 10/05/17 09:18 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 1,392
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 1,392
Ajax, ON
7 June, 1917 La Bellevue
48 RFC

Dick Grayson was the tail end Charlie for the line patrol mission. The flight made it almost to the front lines when a two-seater emerged from a cloud behind them. Dick’s quick reflexes and more likely the fact that he was closest to it, put him head to head with the intruder. They squared off and in the last moment the German machine dove under. The inexperienced sergeant realized too late he has made a grave mistake. As they were passing each other Dick’s gunner Captain Oliver Glasgow had no clear shot, while the enemy had a excellent view of the Brisfit’s belly. Machine gun fire raked Grayson’s bus.

[Linked Image]

He immediately banked and dove. The damage was not too great. Glasgow’s curses could be heard over the roar of the engine. Dick wasn’t sure if they were directed at him, or at the Germans. He brought the Brisfit around and parked it behind the less manoeuvrable DFW. More shots rang out from the rear of the German bus, but Dick already had him cantered in the rings of his gun sight. Lead begun to pour from the single Vickers. The enemy gunner slumped on the side of the fuselage, his gun silenced. The pilot of the enemy two-seater started to make erratic moves in an attempt to lose his pursuer. The Brisfit easily matched the feeble attempts. More hot lead came at the helpless German. The final salvo damaging the plane to the point where any sudden movement would put the aircraft into an unrecoverable spin. Dick pulled along side of the terrified German and waited.

[Linked Image]

Glasgow’s twin Lewis guns swivelled on their mount and tore into the enemy two-seater sending it spiralling down to his death. The British pilot knew he made it up to his gunner. The cursing has stopped. Grayson rejoined the formation, completed their patrol and together with everyone else brought the plane back home to La Bellevue. He put in the claim and waited. It would be his first.

Attached Files 1.jpg2.jpg

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4383403 - 10/05/17 10:39 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: Oct 2015
Posts: 68
Dark_Canuck Offline
Junior Member
Dark_Canuck  Offline
Junior Member

Joined: Oct 2015
Posts: 68
Canada
Amazing stories everyone! Ive started up another pilot in the intrepid fliers catagory while I wait for Mr Kinkaid to recover. I will be introducing him soon.

#4383557 - 10/06/17 04:43 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,081
Raine Offline
Member
Raine  Offline
Member

Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,081
New Brunswick, Canada
Carrick, you can sure pick the girls! Fullofit, another great pair of stories! The photo of the Brisfit and the Hun observer draped over the side was really terrific.

Here is the opening of the Messines battle from the other side, and Corderoy has a confirmed kill at last!!! charge

Diary of 2/Lieut. Geoffrey Corderoy, RFC
Part 5: 6-7 June 1917

6 June 1917


On standby this morning from five o’clock. I am roused from drowsing over a cup of tea in the mess at five-thirty by a klaxon and word from Thompson that there are Huns over the Bethune sector. It is a fine day. Already the air is warming and full of the sweet smell of new grass. Pratt briefs us quickly and we are airborne in minutes. Our six Pups turn directly southwards and climb quickly: Pratt, Joske (who has just put up his second pip), Marchart, Luxmoore, Marley, and me.

Less than ten minutes out Pratt turns and climbs more steeply. He has spotted a pair of Rumplers passing overhead. I open the throttle and claw my way higher. The Huns are at least a thousand feet higher, probably more. I get within 500 feet of their height and begin to close the distance on them when I notice that Pratt and the other have turned away and are headed for the lines near Auchy. The Rumplers are still a half-mile away and I don’t fancy tackling the two of them alone. Besides, we had a job to do so I turn away and give chase to my comrades, now nearly lost in the haze. Whatever it was that set off the alarm is nowhere to be found, so we parade north and south for an hour or so and return to La Gorgue. It is a beautiful day and the Pup lurches with the heat bumps from the warming air.

There is a second breakfast in the mess. Mother has sent me some Gentleman’s Relish, which I enjoy with toast and eggs. The mess steward has found some fine blood pudding too, which I lay into with gusto. Some of the other fellows aren’t fond of it, so I scoff their portions as well as my own. Marley compares me to a seagull as I pick things off his plate.

Our standby ends at eleven and then we have a planned patrol at noon, providing cover for three RE8s from 4 Squadron who are off to drop bombs on a road junction near Oppy. It is the same crew as this morning’s earlier flight, with the addition of Baragar, one of our Canadians. For some reason I feel a bit windy about this show. Archie greets us as we passed south of Ypres and the green fields beneath gave way to the brown stain of the lines. We plod along at 8000 feet, not a good height for Pups. The barks and black puffs in the air around us signal our presence to all of Hunland and we have ten or fifteen minutes to go before the RE8s can let go of their bombs and we can go home. My neck aches from scanning the bright sky.

I spot them first, a group of six Albatros scouts diving at us from the south, and throttle up to warn Pratt. But Pratt sees them too and turns to meet them while climbing. The first pass is thrilling. It is like a cavalry countercharge. The Albatrosses and Pups flash past one another, machine guns banging away, missing each other by a few feet. Then hard rudder and about again. Just in time, too, for my Albatros and another are already turning onto my tail. We pass again head on and this time I get around quicker. A second Pup joins in and one of the Huns turns in the opposite direction so that I am left with only one H.A. to worry about.

My Hun rolls on his back and dives beneath me and I follow. For a moment he is gone and I check all about. Then he flashes upwards, directly in front of me. I can see directly into the cockpit – the pilot is looking up at me with his mouth open. He has a fair moustache. I fire and pull back on the stick to follow his climb. My tracer is plunging directly into him and I see bits flying off him. When I finally run out of speed and level off, my Hun is off to one side and I can see daylight through his upper left plane. He is badly damaged. The Albatros puts his nose down and heads northeast and I am right behind. Another Pup trails me, trying to get in on the kill, but this fellow is mine. I fire again and the German machine begins to break up. There is no question this time. I check behind to see who my witness will be. The Pup is no longer there.

I need not worry. Back at La Gorgue, Marley reports that he saw me fire and saw the Hun’s wing begin to break away. By the grace of the Royal Flying Corps, I now have an official victory. The poor chap with the blond moustache, though, is no more. I wonder about who he was.

[Linked Image]
"I fire again and the German machine begins to break up."

7 June 1917

We had a modest binge last night to celebrate my victory and Joske’s second. It was a fine scrap, six Huns and seven Pups with two confirmed and two driven down and no losses. Major Babington briefed us that tomorrow is the big day for a push to sort out the situation around Ypres. We all had early shows and so I left the mess by ten-thirty. There was heavy rain and I was soaked by the time I reached our hut. I changed quickly and was sound asleep in seconds.

There is a sound like the end of the world. Dust falls from every rafter and Jock, the squadron’s terrier and lead dog, howls and whines. My first thought is that the earth has been hit by a comet! We stagger outside. The rain has stopped but the whole sky is pulsating with the light of gunfire and there is throbbing pounding one feels in one’s chest. Barragar utters a filthy but totally appropriate word. This is a push unlike any other. There has been no build-up or three-day barrage. It is clear now that what we heard was a giant mine, or more likely a series of them. I find myself saying a prayer – for the Hun. What must it be like to be on the other end of this?

Sleep is impossible so we shave and wash and head for the mess, even though it is only three-thirty. I am off at five as Heath is to lead us into Hunland to shoot up some aerodromes. This must be part of the big picture plan. As it happens, the Huns seem to have packed it in, for we see nothing in the air save for some two-seaters off in the distance heading in to land. Archie is heavy and we climb to 14000 feet. After the required two hours we go home.

In the early afternoon I join Pratt’s flight to escort some BE2s north of Ypres where they are to drop bombs on lines of troops heading for the front. Our way is blocked by a formation of seven or eight of the new type V Albatros scouts with rounded bodies. It is a wild scrap and there are several near collisions. Nothing puts the wind up like having something fly into you. At least twice I find myself hunched down, stick full forward, eyes closed, waiting for the bang. The fight quickly breaks up into individual brawls. For some reason I have three of the Huns all to myself. In cases like this it is necessary to focus entirely on not dying. If one gets a shot it is a quick burst. There is no chance to work in behind a Hun for then another Hun would be on your tail. I dance from one Albatros to another and never fly straight for more than a second. The wind is from the west so at every opportunity I try to curve away from enemy territory. Countless times I turn to see a pair of Huns turning to get behind me, and countless time I skid or roll or zoom to deny them. Then without warning or apparent reason they turn away and I cannot believe my luck. I am all alone in a clear sky. The flooded lands of the Yser pass beneath. The lakes at Blankaart show the way home. Of the battle we see little. All the ground east of Ypres is blanketed in a putrid green-grey cloud of smoke and gas and dust with long tendrils of vapours drifting to the east. Gunfire twinkles through the haze like the glimmer of fairies from hell. I avoid the area, not wanting to be the thing that prevents a shell reaching its appointed target.

Back at La Gorgue my mechanics have already heard that I was last seen entertaining three Huns. They are very happy that my machine has not one bullet hole, and I overhear them talking about “their” officer being a “right crafty fellow in a scrap.” This is more satisfying than a mention in despatches. I ask Sergeant Norris to have the riggers tighten everything up, as I feel I nearly pulled the poor Pup apart avoiding Albatri.

Attached Files Kill #1.png
#4383563 - 10/06/17 05:51 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 3,561
carrick58 Offline
Senior Member
carrick58  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 3,561
Well done on the stories and pics.

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