There is a way around that problem if you are using my pilot backup program.
Just restore the pilot and then immediately transfer.

There was a time when you could edit the pilot files to resolve this kind of problem, but no more!

Cheers!

Unfortunately, I wasn't using your back up program, But live and learn hun ? I am sure glad U and others check the forum members reads and give good advice. Thanks.

Sgt, RipSaw Smith
Aeronautic Militaire
SOP 17 Esquennoy AF
Flanders, France.

I haven't seen much of France since arriving. I was assigned to SOP 17 a Recon/Bomber Sqn located in Flanders and Equipped with the Sopwith 1 1/2 er aero-machine. I have high hopes of transferring to the Americans over here after proving myself.

Sgt, RipSaw Smith
Aeronautic Militaire
SOP 17 Esquennoy AF
Flanders, France.

April 28, 1918.


all flights cancelled due to weather. The lads in the mess are still talking about the big fight last week. 2 machines against 7 enemy scouts and they got back in one piece. all be it, the Sopwith's had numerous bullet holes. I'll be posted to the Second section for duties.

Banjoman:

EEECK, that brings back a bad memory. I was in Texas and saw one of those Nasty looking funnels in the sky so did a U turn and drove the other way. Heard later it touched down by a lake outside of FT Hood. Little damage was reported. I do Not like those things.

Sgt, RipSaw Smith
Aeronautic Militaire
SOP 17 Esquennoy AF
Flanders, France.

April 29, 1918.


Morning parade: The Battle rages on we are at the bottom of the Bilge in the lines. No supplies or bombs and ammo has come up so no mission flights today. ( the Mud ? ) Just maintenance and Engine run ups until the Esc has been re-supplied.

Quentin Quantrill
94th Aero Squadron
Verdun

Quentin had been doing well since he had made it back to his squadron after being captured. Abner had quizzed him of his escape but the most he said was "there are a few less Huns for our boys to deal with over there." Major Coleman, or Abner as he preferred to be called, left it at that.

He had 2 confirmed victories now. Both over the Phalz scout which were numerous in his area and both near Verdun on escort missions. He had one close call on a Rail yard strike where on the 5th pass a control wire was shot in too. He safely landed at an airfield south of Verdun but had to hold hard left on the stick to keep his kite level. Fortunately he did not meet any enemy on the way back as he would have been easy pickins.

C flight had left this morning on a routine patrol of the lines. Major Coleman was concerned about Quent as he did not look good at all. He had asked Quent if he was ok and Quent had assured him he was but the Major suspected otherwise.


Abner was reviewing the repair list with the mechanics when C flight could be heard coming back from patrol. All four machines were there. "Good", Abner thought as he watched the planes land. Rickenbacker, Hall, and Stevenson all climbed from there machines but there was no movement from #18, Quent's machine. "Hells Bells!" Abner said out loud as he trotted over to Quent's machine.

Abner looked at Quent and could see he was not well. "You alright?" Abner asked, climbing up to the cockpit.

"Yea, just need a little help getting out of this thing." Quent replied.

By then, Hall had joined as as they got Quent to the ground, he stood erect, wobbled a bit, and hit the ground.

Abner pulled off his flying cap and put his hand to his forehead. It was burning up!

"Get this man to the hospital, NOW, he's got that damned flu!" Abner shouted.

Note: Headed out on vacation for 3 weeks Gents. Ya'll carry on and be safe up there.

April 30, 1918

Pa,

Have you ever noticed Pa, how misfortune seems to dog certain people? Well, Quent seems to be one of those people. As you recollect, he went missing for a long spell and just yesterday we had to cart him off to the hospital because of Influenza. I imagine you've read in the paper about this sickness that seems to be striking everywhere, well it has really hit the boys over here hard. We've been very fortunate because Quent is our first case and I hope and pray that he will be our last. I've heard that certain parts of the front have really taken a beating and as usual the boys in the trenches have gotten the short end of the stick on this thing. Has anybody back home fallen ill with this Influenza? Don't worry about me, I'm doing everything I can to stay well. Our Medical Officer is a radical sort of fellow and he has suggested that everyone make it a habit of washing our hands as often as we can. I don't see how keeping my hands clean will keep me healthy, but supposedly he is the expert on such matters.

Yesterday was a real special day for me since I scored my 50th victory. The boys threw me a celebration and we had a real shindig with singing and everything. I don't know how the fellers manage such things but they are experts at rounding up whatever they need to have a celebration. Now before you go and think I'm some kind of extra special pilot since I have so many victories, let me explain something to you. Most of the Huns that I've met have as much mettle and grit as any man you would happen to meet. They also seem to enjoy a good dust-up and very seldom miss an opportunity to start or join in one. What I've learned though, is once they are in a scrap they have no stomach to stick it out to end of that scrap. So, if a feller is patient it won't be long before the Hun tucks and runs for home and that's when you get him. I imagine that doesn't sound like something a gentleman would do, but Pa you know as well as I do that war is no place for gentlemen. Anyway, I would imagine a good number of my victories were scored because the Hun tried to cut and run. I did manage to get a photograph for your collection and I've included it with my letter. Give my regards to the rest of the family and I'll write again next week.

Your loving son,

Abner

I had to Kill off RipSaw. seems I found a hic cup in the sim. The a/c load 30 feet high then crash most destroyed wait for new ones Same thing again so I dumped him. Gotta play WOFF.

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Flanders, France

May 1, 1918.

Arrived on the 30th, took up on an Orientation Flight Then off to war. The Bosa put up five machines to bomb factories near the lines. Due to cloud cover we ended up circling and dropping through a small hole in the clouds. The English helped by turning on a searchlight. I helped by dropping flares along with 100 Kg bombs.

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Flanders, France

2 may 1918.



Arrived in the Mess to have breakfast before our night flight. I heard that we fly at night because we are easy pick-ins for day fighters.

2150 hrs: Due to Fuel shortages the Bosa had 3 machines ready for the mission to bomb near the coast. After getting to 2,000 meters my Gotha couldn't get more the 44 % powder so had to fire off a distress flare and RTB.

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Le Cateu, Flying Field
Flanders, France

May 3, 1918.



The attack on Factories outside of Paris dint go very well. The Bosa attacked with 4 machines losing 2 destroyed + 1 damaged, but they found Paris. I became separated from the flight during the darkness so went after the Secondary Target of Railyards near Compiegne. Dropping low ( 700 meters) I dumped the load+ flares to start fires. However due to a cross wind all missed.

Four pilots had captured since last time - Banjoman, Carrick58, Ledehosen and Hasse. Unfortunately Carrick's pilot Quade McGregor has gone west so is not reported here.

I'm solidly in fifth place, my mom would be proud of me.

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Le Cateu, Flying Field
Flanders, France

May 4, 1918.


No flights due to shortages. It was rumored in the Mess that our fuel allocation was give to the JG 2 Jasta,s. I cant cry about it as we only have 2 Machines flyable.

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Le Cateu, Flying Field
Flanders, France

May 5, 1918.

While doing a bombing run on the rail-yards at compiegne, my Gotha got taged by ground fire. Managed to glide back to the lines crashing the machine. we stayed together and avoided a French patrol in the darkness. Finally, contacted our troops ( Night Patrols in NML) and made it back. What a ride.

Can't wait to try WOFF 3. While still on the road, here's a bit of Jack Cairns's story...

Pyrexia of Unknown Origin. It was influenza, of course, but an unusually virulent strain. My fever didn’t break on 26 April, but I was one of the lucky ones. I watched each morning as one or two of the poor chaps on the ward had the sheets pulled over their faces.

Dr. Fitzgibbon was a pip. Good to his word, he visited every afternoon. Within a couple of days I was moved from the main building of the Isolation Hospital to a dreary annex camp and I was permitted to go outside. There was a large garden and after breakfast I would take a good book and enjoy the sun. And for the first time I was permitted visitors, because none was allowed in the hospital proper.

The war was very far away and I wanted it to stay that way. Every time I thought about my eventual return to my squadron, all I could think of was Lloyd-Evans’s SE spinning out of control into the clouds, shedding pieces of its undercarriage. There was a tightness in my chest at the thought.

Then my first visitor announced himself, his nasal Welsh “hey boyo” an impossibility. It was Dudley Lloyd-Evans, alive and well, except for a slight limp. “You know, of course, that the Pfalz was all mine, sir,” he laughed. Lloyd-Evans had managed to regain control at 2000 feet and put down at Petite-Synthe. McClintock was acting OC in my absence. Burge had bagged two Rumplers in a week. Most amazingly, the Baron had been shot down, although by whom was a matter of some debate. Both an Aussie machine gun battalion and 208 Squadron claimed the honour. We all agreed that our “Oh and then there’s this,” said Dudley, handing me an envelope. It contained a copy of the London Gazette, signed by every member of the squadron. “Read page two.”

I scanned the page and stopped when I spotted my own name. I had been awarded the DSO. There was something else in the envelope – two invitations for guests of Major Jack Cairns, DSO, MC for a Royal investiture in Leeds on 30 May 1918.

I met an interesting fellow later that week in the same garden. A sturdy-looking young major sat on the bench across a gravelled lane. He was reading a book and I strained to read its title. At length he put the book down on the bench. I read: The Book of Common Prayer with Commentary for Teachers and Students.

“Not quite the usual read around here,” I said. The fellow smiled. We chatted a while. He was attached to the Third Army General Staff. I nearly dismissed him as a paper merchant when I noticed the maroon ribbon on his chest. I mumbled an embarrassed congratulations, not quite knowing what to say in the presence of a VC.

“Oh that,” he said. “Wouldn’t have got it had there been a safe way out the mess I’d got into, but the Huns wouldn’t let me leave.” He’d won the VC at Hill 60 in 1915 as a subaltern in a territorial unit. Like myself, he’d been headed for the priesthood when the war intervened. And like me, his father was a vicar. We chatted at great length. The fellow’s name was Geoffrey Wooley. After a while I mentioned the long chat I’d had with the padre of the Worcestershires about biblical archaeology.

“That settles it, then,” he said. “You must meet my brother.” Before the war his brother Leonard led a major dig for a Hittite town in Turkey. He’d developed some careful and scientific methods, and Geoffrey didn’t tire of speaking about him. “I’ll give you a letter of introduction in the morning. Look him up next time you’re in London.”
The following day I was released from the hospital and ordered to report to St. Omer to get my DSO ribbon and leave papers.


Geoffrey Wooley, VC


"...I was moved from the main building of the Isolation Hospital to a dreary annex camp..."

Stiner Hentsau
Bosa 3, Gotha G IV,s
Le Cateu, Flying Field
Flanders, France


May 6, 1918.


I was give a day off to re cooperate from yesterdays ordeal. Afterwords, I was instructed to begin work-up on my new machine a Gotha V.