Cyril Woolly
Cpt, Rfc, Instructor Pilot
7 Victorys,
40 Sqn, Bryas, AF
Flanders France.

Went into Abbeville with the Chaps for a Show and dinner. The Chaps stayed late, but I went back looks like rain clouds coming in.

https://giphy.com/gifs/dancing-chours-line-3LApWHZV3c9PeuZ1hc/fullscreen

Cyril Woolly
Cpt, Rfc, Instructor Pilot
7 Victorys,
40 Sqn, Bryas, AF
Flanders France.


June 21, 1918.

The Chalk board read: B Flight: 0705 Take off 5 a/c Balloon Attack at Loos.
C Flight: AF Security Patrol 0910 T/O Local AF's 4 a/c
A Flight: Alert A/c Stanby Home base. 3 a/c

B Flight mostly has new Pilots except for Landis and I. He Led and I stayed up as Top Cover among the scattered Rain Clouds. A new guy got the Bag. RTB

Finally back in action!!!

Diary of Maj. Geoffrey Corderoy, 70 Squadron RFC
Part 56: 19-22 February 1918

21 February 1918 – Poperinghe aerodome

I received a medical clearance to leave the home in Folkestone on the 20th and was headed to Calais on a returning leave ship that same evening after a splendid dinner at the Burlington Hotel in Dover.[1] I was to report directly to Wing for a meeting with Lt-Col Van Ryneveld followed by a full medical assessment.

A former London cabbie named Whiteside ferried me and an older RFC sergeant in a worn-out Austin from Calais to St-Omer, where the sergeant de-bussed. I never learned his name. He was Welsh and I struggled to make out his accent. Besides, Whiteside kept up a steady patter the whole time, holding forth on the subjects of dog racing, motorcars, Russia, Frenchmen generally, several Frenchwomen specifically, and food. On the latter topic he was an obvious expert. We paused for lunch at Kemmel, sandwiches and tea at a YMCA canteen, and arrived at Mont Rouge at one o’clock.

I had met Van Ryneveld only once before, on the occasion of his first inspection of the squadron at Poperinghe. Then he’d been all puff and questions, but now he was a charming man. His Boer accent was heavy but polished and a keen intelligence came through with every utterance. After some pleasantries he came straight to the point.[2]

“I have heard that you do not want to go to Home Establishment. Is that correct?” Thank you, Baring.

“It is, sir,” I said. “Of course, I will serve on the army’s terms, but there is word afoot that I will be sent home soon to limit my ability to challenge some other pilots.”

“Where did you hear that?” Van Ryneveld asked.

“I’d rather not say from whom, sir, but I was told as much in London last month. Likely a rumour passed about at the Savoy bar.”

The Wing Commander then asked about my health. I told him I felt tip-top, but needed to get back in the air to see how the ear would react. He motioned me over to a map on the wall. “Enemy activity is becoming intense. Now that the Russians have quit, the Hun must strike a blow before the Americans enter the war in force. General Haig believes the attack will come for certain in March, perhaps even earlier. Even without the Americans, the economic situation in Germany will not allow the enemy to stay on the defensive all summer. The top priority of the RFC is clear. We must push the offensive at all times, and we must monitor all enemy activity to identify where and when the attack will come. General Gough is convinced that his Fifth Army will take the blow and that the Hun will push on Amiens, seeking to drive between us and the French. Our patrols suggest he may be correct. In the last four weeks there have been signs of new units, new depots, and new rail lines in that sector.”

He tapped his fingertips over the Cambrai salient, and then pointed north to the area between Arras and Armentieres. “And we are seeing activity farther north. Perhaps the initial blow will be here, to draw in our reserves before a blow in the south. Depending on what we learn in the next week or two, squadrons will be redeployed to the threatened sector. What is your opinion of 70 Squadron’s readiness?”

I was justifiably proud of the squadron’s progress and told him so. In three months, the squadron had adapted to Camels and become one of the crack units we had. Van Ryneveld nodded and expressed agreement. “I shall not be sending you home. We need you here at this dangerous time. But you may be given another squadron to knock into shape.”

It was like losing a family member to leave 70, and I said so. “Where will I go?” I asked.

“Some influential people want you in London. To placate them, General Salmond will approve a transfer to another operational unit only if it is not front-line. I fear, however, every squadron will be front-line when the Hun starts the big push.” I pressed for details, but the colonel could not, or would not, say more.

The Wing MO cleared me for flying below 10000 feet for the moment, and preferably below 8000. And then I was driven back to Poperinghe.

22 February 1918

It is good to be back. Today’s patrols are all at higher altitudes except Gorringe’s flight, which is ordered to attack Haubordin aerodrome. Gorringe is gracious enough to insist I lead, saying I can decide what height is best. Every machine is slung with four bombs.

I take off on a hazy, damp, and cold morning, turning south-southeast. I have picked a bend in the Lys as my “jumping off place,” from which I climb to 6000 feet above the clouds and follow a compass bearing for ten minutes. Then I shut off and glide down to find we are too far south and now over Lens. I start up and lead the other four Camels north. Within a couple of minutes our target appears in the distance, a row of hangars and huts that show white in the early sunlight.

Just then Aldred pulls ahead and waggles his wings. He points directly overhead. There, high above, a very large formation is passed directly over us, heading south. They are without doubt Fokker triplanes, which means very probably they are von Richthofen’s lot; they have been reported up and down the sector from Ypres to Arras. I hold my breath and drone on towards Haubordin. Rankin and I sweep to the east to take the hangars in line. The others, led by Gorringe, bomb from higher. Their work is solid. Plumes of fire and earth erupt from the field and I see the explosions among parked aircraft and hangars. Then Rankin and I sweep in and finish the job, hitting some undamaged buildings. I fire the flare to regroup immediately, as I don’t fancy strafing at zero feet five miles into Hunland with the Baron sitting above me. But the lads gather round quickly and we are soon heading west and climbing. I turn north along the lines for about ten miles looking for trade, but there are no adventurous Huns about so we head home.


"...Rankin and I sweep in and finish the job, hitting some undamaged buildings."

Notes:

[1] Built in 1860, the stately Burlington was a landmark on the Dover seafront. Hit by German naval gunfire in 1940 and again by bombs in September 1941, it was rendered unstable and demolished in 1949.

[2] LCol, later General, Hesperus Andreas “Pierre” Van Ryneveld KBE CB DSO MC, later founded the South African Air Force. He served as Chief of the General Staff for South African forces throughout the Second World War.

Well done

Cyril Woolly
Cpt, Rfc, Instructor Pilot
7 Victorys,
40 Sqn, Bryas, AF
Flanders France.


June 22, 1918.


Bigest Fight yet. We were doing a Sweep down past Cappy and had a Punch Out with the Huns. Our 7 a/c spotted and attacked in Heavy cloud 3 Recon types. As tail end a/c I got off 1 drum of Lewis and 44 rds of Vickers , no hits, then pulled of to reload the top Gun. I spotted many e/a of a new type coming down. Turning into the them I fired as I climbed shot past, reloaded then turned into them . I was trying to keep my wingmates tails clear pot shooting at them. I damaged one ? then another flashed by and I chased ,but couldnt get in a good shot. The enemy pilots were very good or their machines much better than ours. I landed with the Vickers Gun empty and 1 Lewis Gun ,47 rds, drum. Total : 2 Recon shot down + 1 Scout. Losses: 1 SE destroyed pilot KIA + 2 damaged and 1 pilot WND.

2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron, USAAS

June 21st 1918

No patrols yesterday, rain all day. Spent the morning repacking my trunk and cleaning my leathers, shoes, boots, belts, can't get the orderlies to do it for love or money, well...maybe money. Soap and water first, then used gasoline on them and finally the polish. I did an extra good job on my shoes, glopped on the polish good and thick, lit it on fire, then spit shined them until they looked like glass. Dewey and I did a thorough cleaning of the room. The Major let me have Mickey after her reminded me to keep him away from the flight line. We went out to a pasture back behind the barracks to play chase and dodge and catch in the mud puddles, got soaked to the skin. He was really tired out by the end. The Squadron clerk and I got him pretty dry with an old blanked before I turned him back over to Maj who ordered me to get my "wet ass out of here and get some dry clothes on, you get pneumonia and I'll Court Martial you for mis-use of Government property!

I did catch cold. Went straight to bed, skipped supper. Dewey came in with some red wine what put me to rights. Never felt better this morning.


Still raining today. Some of us went into Toul. Full of American troops, their bringing in a bunch of draftees to replace the 26th on this front. Had lunch at the Hotel Metz, no bon. Threw Cackers (1) at the French kids for them to catch. They wear black aprons if their fathers have died in the war, boys and girls alike. Lots of black aprons and hard times for them. Many of the French are making sacrifices and adopting a standard of living that the average Negro in our country would think pretty tough.

Bought cherries and strawberries and ate them in the barracks until we were sick of them.

Still expecting word to move to the big show toot sweet. The tooter the sweeter as far as we're concerned. Photographers coming to take our pretty pictures tomorrow.

(1) Clacker - large copper coin of little value.

Below, lineup of the 147th at Toul.

Cyril Woolly
Cpt, Rfc, Instructor Pilot
7 Victorys,
40 Sqn, Bryas, AF
Flanders France.

Jun 23, 1918.

Patrol: 0545 Hrs. B flight did a sweep over at Lens, dark skies, scattered rain showers, No Contact.

AF Attack: 1301 Hrs. B flights 5 a/c did a little damage. I lined up the parked e/a and gave them a full Lewis gun plus 44-58 rds of Vickers Then zoomed reloaded and gave it to them again. Spotted some of the New type e/a taking off on my 3rd run but couldn't line up. The Flight reformed and RTB. Cpt Landis had a motor failure trying to land on a Right tun to base and ended up in a Church Yard Minus landing carriage and parts of lower wings.

Albert Earl Godfrey returns:

24 Feb 1918 @ 08h22 DOP to Villers-au-Tertre aerodrome

The morning of 24th Feb broke clear and cold as the sunlight streamed in through the window of Godfrey’s hut. Throwing the blankets aside he immediately felt the chill in the air. His mind stirred to the thought of the cold water in the basin, currently coated in a layer of ice, which he would soon be using to freshen up. It was not a thought he relished. He made short work of the affair, quickly washing, shaving, and suiting up. The O.C. had advised him in advance of the mornings mission. “B” flight had been chosen for this special mission. A DOP to Villeres-au-Tertre, to assess the build up of enemy craft on the closely adjoining airfields of Masny, Guesnain, Cantin, Erchin, and Aniche. It was clearly intended to be an OP but Godfrey had made up his mind to deliver a calling card to the airfield of Villers-au-Tertre.

He hustled off to the ordinance shed to ensure that each of “B” flight was loaded up with 4 25lb Cooper bombs. Having issued his orders, he promptly headed for the mess. As he entered he noted his crew already assembled at the table near the coffee dispenser. He glanced at each man as he approached, mentally recalling their names. (Ltn Salisbury, Capt Alfred “Pat” Saunders, Capt “Art” Duncan, Capt john Crompton, Capt George Hegarty, Ltn John Griffith and Ltn Robert “Little” #%&*$#) So many new men, he thought to himself and none of the Original crew. It was not a thought he wanted to dwell on and so announced himself to all. “Well lads, this should be a cracker jack outing this morning. It will be “B” flights show on a special run to assess the enemy buildup on the airfields surrounding Villers-au-Tertre. Of course a proper OP to assess the build up can’t be achieved without waking up the sleeping Huns, so….. I have had the ordinance crew issue each of us some Cooper bombs which we shall use judiciously as the opportunity presents itself over Tertre.
If the mission goes as planned we will take our observations and then head for Mont-St-Eloi to report in. No hanging about lads. Drop the ordinance and quickly assess the situation and then we get out quickly. No point in hanging around the hornets nest.”

A suite of smiles went up round the table as chuckles began to break the silence of the mess.

The flight took off promptly at 08h22; formed up at 11,800 ft over Droglandt at 08h57 and turned SE towards Lens and Douai.

09h09 found them approaching the lines at 13,500 ft. NE of Lens.

At 09h11 they were over Haubourdin and no sign of enemy flak.

At 09h21 they passed over Douai and Godfrey could make out the outline of the circle of enemy airfields. It was only a matter of minutes until Godfrey could make out Villers-au-Tertre and wobbling his wings he began a slow circling descent cutting back to throttle to idle.

The flight broke into two’s, each heading for an adjoining field with intent to wake the Hun from his sleep.

Things went quickly. The number two man of each group was tasked to take the primary observations until his turn to go in and then the task was reversed.

Godfrey and Salisbury teamed up on Tertre, each loosing his load and taking assessment of ordinance on the fields.

Following the drop, the sky quickly heated up with flak and Godfrey headed back up to altitude with Salisbury in tow. They headed NW of Masny to the planned rendezvous position, sent up flares to rejoin and awaited their flight mates arrival. All made it back to rendezvous except Griffith. Whitney would later indicate Griffith had been hit by flak and headed west.

Godfrey took “B” flight in the same direction, headed for Mont-St-Eloi and hoped that they might spot Griffith hobbling along in the same direction.
They never did see him but it turned out he crash landed across the lines
On the Bethune Cambrai road, a little worse for wear and shaken up but otherwise no serious damage other than to his SE which was a write-off.

Back at Eloi Godfrey called in the results of the mission, indicating significant build up of aircraft at the Huns airfields. Clearly something was up.

Wow, awesome stuff all around gents.

Fullofit, a well and proper salute to Aldi. I will miss his stories. What a great sendoff too! Well done and best of luck with your next pilot.

Raine Glad to see you back in the air and giving the Huns a proper what for! I hope the ear stays intact for you.

Robert Always nice to catch up on Mr Godfrey's story. It amazes me he has managed to last so long in this crazy war!

Jerbear I love the little americanisms you add. It gives a different flavour to the stories here.

Carrick Cyril is a beast! Keep it going.

Good old Collin has been up to the usual misadventures that seem to plague my pilots whenever I get actual time to fly, although this time it took a more interesting turn:

Lt Collin Sitwell
62 Sqn RAF
Cappy

I was the guest of honour at a dinner I never expected to attend when I awoke that morning. My current dining companions are the fine gentlemen of Jasta 5. I do feel a tad under-dressed, as I did not bring my mess kit with me on this particular excursion. Wendell is similarly dressed, and looks similarly uncomfortable with the circumstances. After several days of patrols with empty skies, we came upon a group of V strutters near Baupaume or however it is you spell it. The fight was a fierce one and I was forced to disengage after taking some damage. As we struggled for altitude on our escape to our lines, Wendell smacked my shoulder and pointed. My heart immediately dropped through the floor.


Wendell and I on the way to dinner

No less than seven Fokker Triplanes were bearing down. There was two options: Land on the hun side of the lines or try to fight it out and hope to survive until the rest of the Sqn came along. As my good friend Gord from back home always would say, courage couldn't come at a worse time. I turned into the attack and immediately regretted the decision. A hail of machine gun rounds snapped past, most passing through the fabric of the wings. there was nothing for it now. I slammed the stick forward and lost altitude as quickly as possible. The ground rushed up towards me and I leveled out at the last possible second, damn near losing the undercarriage on some trees. Seconds latter we were bouncing down a lane in Hun occupied France.

Mercifully, neither of us were hit, and we scrambled out of our doomed craft. Wendell looked at me and I at him and for whatever reason, despite our predicament, we began laughing like children. How the hell had we survived that nonsense? Wendell recovered from our momentary insanity first and remembered that we were supposed to light the damn thing on fire to deny it to the enemy. It was not five minutes later that the Boche found us sitting on the side of the road watching our crate burn like a bonfire.

We were searched and then taken to a prisoner collection point, where I could not tell you. There we were hearded into a pen with several other Allied soldiers, although this seemed like a transitory camp, as it was not particularly full. About an hour later a finely dressed officer with a great mustache approached us. In heavily accented english he asked us if we were the flyers of the two seater forced down. When we confirmed this, he broke into a wide grin and introduced himself as Leutnant Fritz Rumey [1], the pilot whose bursts finally put us down. He insisted that we join him for dinner at his aerodrome. In no position to refuse, off we went.


Fritz Rumey

The dinner was delicious and the drinks flowed freely. We were closely watched, however, to be honest, the thought of escaping never really crossed my mind. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, but the thought of running through the cold night trying to evade capture and death seemed like a poor substitute for our current circumstances.

After the dinner concluded the Leutnant led us out to the hanger to show us his mount. After the suitable amount of ooing and ahhing he gave a sly look and took us into a separate hanger. Here he showed us his new mount. Freshly arrived he told us. I had never seen one like it before. It had a square nose and a VI strut pattern. It was painted a bright yellow. He seemed particularly proud of the machine, and he said it would win Germany the war in the air. Wendell and I nodded politely and were soon loaded into the Sqn vehicle to be escorted back to the prisoner collection point.

As our hosts left, the reality of the situation began to set it. What were we going to do now?

[1] Leutnant Fritz Rumey started flying his yellow Fokker DVII sometime around June 26th. He would achieve 45 victories, including 16 in the month of September 1918 before he was killed due to a parachute malfunction on 27 September 1918.

endlich

Nicely done Gents

Enjoying the stories all. Canuck - nice touch to show the face of the enemy in your story. Hope Cpt Sitwell gets a chance to make a break for it.

2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron, USAAS

Saturday, June 22nd 1918

The photographers came today. They did both still photographs and moving pictures for the military records. The process started about 15:00. They took individual photos of the pilots who had gotten Boche with their aircraft, which included myself, and a number of group shots. The most interesting of these was a staged shot with a group of us, all in our finery, gathered around Mickey and Jerry being introduced to Jack (1). I hope I can get hold of a copy of it. Some of these pictures will probably make it home to the newspapers.

After the photo sessions, a parade was held for an awards ceremony. The French from the 122nd were present also. There were a large number of us, both American and French receiving the Croix-de-Guerre with palm or in some cases, palms. A French Major from their 8th Army read the citations for each of us, then an old Colonel with so many medals on his chest that they made him walk lopsided stalked up, affixed the hardware to our chests, saluted, then tried to wring our hands off. No kiss, apparently they give so many of these pieces of tin away that they save the smooch for higher awards. A movie guy was there to record the process while one of his crew played soft music on a hand organ. Dewey and I put them away in our trunks, not the sort of thing you walk around with on your chest all the time.

(1) Mickey Two, a bull terrier, mascot of the 147th Aero; Jerry, a boxer and mascot of the 27th Aero; Jack the donkey, mascot of the 95th Aero. There were a number of other mascots, the 27th had two geese as well and one of the mascots for the 94th Aero was a Fox named Joe.

2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron, USAAS

Sunday, June 23rd 1918

Cloudy, windy, occasional rain. Went out with Snake, Dodd, and Dewey to escort a French camera kite, couldn't find it so we patrolled just in front of our balloon line, saw two EA, probably biplace but they avoided us.

Went over to visit Davy, they made some really delicious fudge, going to have to try to make some myself.

Dewey got confirmation on his 2nd Hun, many congratulations, both of them his alone.

A regiment or two of US Infantry passed by on their way to the Front, no doubt replacing the Yankee Division. These birds were from the 82nd, drafted in April and don't look like very high class troops.

Going over to the bath house, then to bed.

Below: Dewey's 2nd kill

Great stories, as always, gentlemen! Fullofit, sorry to hear of Aldi's passing. A touching farewell, well done! Raine, DarkCanuck, and carrick, keep up the good work! Robert, nice to see you back in the fray! And welcome to our latest wordsmith, Jerbear! It's nice to have a Yank reporting from "over there", usually with wonderful historical detail.

I'll also add a good word for Olham, whose early stories really picqued my interest in the sim. Maybe if we repeat his name three times he will show back up again!

I agree, Herr Olham helped my interest in this Sim and Mr. Rawlings got my interest in Skinning. I wish him well, The last I heard, Herr Olham was enjoying Naval Action as a sea Cpt aboard a Ship named the Albatross ? on the European Server of the Naval Action Game. I play every so often ,but on the American server

Cyril Woolly
Cpt, Rfc, Instructor Pilot
7 Victorys,
40 Sqn, Bryas, AF
Flanders France.


June 24, 1918

As the Ami's say, I was robbed. The Sgn put up 10 a/c in two flights with Cpt Elroy leading , Hes our Big Hunter 26 Kills and he got another today, We did a sweep near Vimy and got into it with 2 flights of e/a. One high, Tri planes, and one low Albatross Scouts with a lot of cloud between and below. I chase a 3 wing down thru the clouds and got him smoke fire and the e/a fell apart. I had used all my Vickers plus 1 Drum Lewis to nail him Reloaed and chase and Albatross peppering him good,but he didnt go down. I must have hit him because he stayed level so I reloaded the top gun and got much closer Bang Bang JAMMED. All that was left for me was to Petal to the Metal and RTB. I told my story to the Adjutant and he sad, I get the picture old Boy,but no witness , no proof being under the clouds and on the enemy side equals Dont bother to fill out the claim. The Sqn claimed 4 e/a for 2 damaged SE's.

2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron, USAAS

June 24th 1918

The Major led 6 of us on protection patrol for a French photo plane alone the Meusse, east of St. Mihiel. Near Thiaucourt aerodrome, 4 Pfalz monoplace began to chase our Frenchman, evidently unaware of our presence.

When we were in a perfect position to swoop down on them from the sun, Maj gave the signal. The leader of the enemy flight, in a silver gray bus with a red tail (1), turned to face us while the other 3 Fritzies dove away, whipping their Mercedes for all they were worth. While the others engaged red tail, Maj, Simmy, Shawhan, Dewey and I streaked past him to chased the other birdys. I had the better machine so caught up with the tail man, had him on a plate, Dewey watching my tail, delivered a long burst and saw the flaming feathers go directly into the body of the plane, near the office, from about 50 yards. The Silver Pfalz caught fire. He went straight down, just east of Lake Madine. Hard luck for the German, hope he was already dead before his machine caught fire, but I was particularly proud of this achievement since the Major was close by, watching the whole show. We were pretty far into Indian Country so I don't know if I'll get confirmation but Maj said to put in for it anyway.

Art, Parry and Snake said red tail was a spectacular pilot and they had quite a scrap with him. He disengaged after putting holes in all their Nieuports and they left off chasing him when they saw the Major's flare, ending the festivities.

We reformed at about 3,000 meters under heavy Archie. Maj picked up some shrapnel so he turned the formation over to Snake and made for the lines. Dewey and I left the formation to escort him until he landed within our lines. Took a little ground fire as we were down to 1,000 meters as we crossed the enemy trenches.

That evening we talked about what we would do if we found ourselves in the position of the German I sent west. Some plan to jump, like Lufberry, some take their 45s with them while others think it best to try to side slip and land if possible, maybe try to jump out just before they crash and take their chances. I take my 45 with me, I don't like the idea of jumping, would, of course, try to fan out the flames first but if it looks like I'm going to be barbecued I'll do what's necessary.

(1) Friedrich Hengst of Jasta 64W, a 5 victory ace who took down two Nieuport 28s on 7 May and 2 June. The 2 June victory was 1Lt Phillip Davis of the 94th Aero.

well done Jerbear. A nice read + a good Pic.

Albert Earl Godfrey

25 Feb 1918 @ 08h22 DOP to Villers-au-Tertre aerodrome

No time to submit story line for this mission. Hopefully update it tomorrow.

What is worthy of note in the video is the Unbustable balloon (07:13:10 minutes in); and the weird terrain tiles which I suspect were affected by cloud cover since they disappear on approach and reappear on withdrawl (09:11:23 minutes in). Anyone else experience this?

Another Well done for Mr Wiggins.