Oh I fully understand! Many of my pilots have met their demise over a mid air collision trying to get in that one last burst.

MFAIR tnx for the cudos, and Fullofit, it's a fine line between getting too close for comfort and not getting close enough@

I am absolutely convinced that Aldi is impervious to damage.

Here is the status report for the previous week's activity.

Don't jinx the guy!

Banjoman, You've made me think. I had to go to the workshops and see if the invincibility setting wasn't on by any chance. Thankfully it wasn't.

Thanks for the latest status report!

Haha, I was only joking.

Journal Entry: 25 March, 1917
Eswars

It felt good to finally fly again. After my bout with my ear infection and the mountains of paperwork that come with commanding a Jasta, it was the sort of freedom that my soul needed. I do believe that the last two weeks have caused me to wax poetic, but if you only knew the freedom you feel when your landing gear leaves the ground, then you would understand. As luck would have it, my first mission back was an attack on an Observation balloon that has been giving our soldiers fits. Naturally, it needed to come down and Lt Voss, Offzsr. Bernert, Vzfw. Frommherz, and myself were up for the task. I led our kette to where the enemy sausage resided and signaled the attack. I have learned from experience that "sausage eating" can be quite tricky and the best approach as the commander is to maintain a position high above the fray so that I can best survey the attack. The three young men having no other responsibilities other than to themselves, dove immediately to the attack. I watched as all three carried out their attacks with such zeal, but to my amazement and utter shock, they all apparently missed. Fortunately for us, Archie must have been preoccupied because he gave a very weak and fitful response and posed no inconvenience whatsoever to us. As the old saying goes, "If you want something done right, then you need to do it yourself" and with that being said I wheeled about and made my attack. I fired around 75 rounds which promptly set the sausage ablaze. Our mission completed, I rounded up the kette and turned for home. To see the faces of Voss, Bernert, and Frommherz upon landing will be a sight that lasts in my memory for a long time. They looked like three young pups that had failed in their hunting trials. Outwardly, I was, of course, stern and commanding, but inwardly I was laughing and will indeed one day remind them of this day.

Journal Entry: 23 July, 1917
Droglandt

It has been a while since I've written in my journal and I believe it is time to rectify that situation. Today's 'little' adventure will certainly serve the purpose nicely. Today dawned clear and beautiful so I took a four of the lads down around the Lens area to see what we could see. In a short while, three Albatri came flying along without an apparent care in the world. Of course, that changed rather quickly when we dove on them and scattered their merry little flight. I singled out one of the Huns who was scurrying home, and was settling in nicely to finish him off, when to my utter amazement and horror, bullets started tearing through my upper wing and fuselage. Instinctively, I flipped out of the line of fire and began searching for my attacker. By the time I had spotted him he was already diving away and running full speed for home. I always look behind me when I'm attacking and I did so even this morning, but somehow I missed this particular Hun. My personal motto has been, "Ask not for whom the bell tolls", well, today it almost tolled for me.

Helmut von Hammer
Jasta 4, JG 1.
Marcke, Flamders.

July 24, 1917


Mission: Balloon Defence
Alt 1500 meters
Kette Zwei 4 A/c
E/a: 5 Camels
Claims: 0
Losses: 1 Albatross D-V ( mine)

Remarks: Back to the hospital. The flight spotted and turned into a flight of Camels. Next thing that I knew a camel was banging away at me . Turned twisted but couldn't get him off. I kicked rudder and push her over diving for home. Just as I was pulling away I got taped by a slug in the leg and fuel puked out of the tank. Put down in a field,but slid into a fence playing bounce the face off the cockpit. The doc's said I would be down for 9 days.

Banjoman and Carrick: both with extremely close shaves! You two are quickly using up your cats' proverbial nine lives!

Banjoman, be glad your opponent didn't try to land on your top wing.
Carrick, You can finally call hospital a place where everybody knows your name!

26 March, 1917 Halluin
Jasta 18

The weather is still spotty with some patches of snow here and there on the ground indicating it is still winter, but the incessant chirping of the birds announces spring, which is just around the corner. Up here in the air, there are no sounds other than the roar of the engines to keep Aldi company. He also has Grieffenhagen and Strähle to keep him company. All the usual suspects, except von Bülow, who had to turn back with engine trouble right after take off. Kette Eins was flying somewhere nearby but out of sight providing top cover for this line patrol. They have not made any contact with enemy flights on their climb to altitude but as soon as they've reached the patrol area over Menen they noticed a large formation of enemy planes heading towards their position. Aldi and the rest of the flight adjusted their flight path to intercept. Enemy planes were just slightly higher than them giving them advantage over the German scouts. Aldi knew this was temporary and once they merge they will fight on even terms. He knew right away they were British as they were flying the de Havilland pushers. There were six of them and half of that number went after Schwarzkopf. The three Aircos initiated a circling fight ensuring a mutual protection from the Albatros. Aldi could only respond to their attacks as they had him covered on all sides.



Finally Kette Eins arrived charging at the pushers with all guns blazing. One of them broke away and Aldi took advantage of the situation pumping him full of lead before being forced to break off the attack by the remaining two aggressors, who despite being attacked themselves by Kette Eins, continued to pursue him. Schwarzkopf lost contact with the DH.2 he fired on and could not tell if he was forced down or got away Scott free. Currently he was preoccupied with the threat behind him. The fight was quickly moving over the lines and into enemy territory. Aldi was able to get behind one of the pushers while his wingman positioned himself behind Aldi without being aware that a member of Kette Eins snuck up behind him creating a whole line of predators and their prey.



Aldi fired first, forcing his target to dive. He followed, spoiling his pursuer's aim. Meanwhile, Ltn Klein bringing up the rear of the train, attacked his target and split the conga line. Aldi kept up with his target and matched his maneuvers all the way down to the deck, taking potshots at every opportunity.



Eventually, the British pilot had to admit defeat and landed behind the lines. Aldi turned around in time to see a plane on fire crash into the trenches. Ltn Klein pulled up and waggled his wings in acknowledgment. Aldi joined up with him and they both returned home where Strähle was already waiting for them. Oberleutnant Grieffenhagen had to put down in the field with a pierced fuel tank. The rest of Kette Eins returned a few minutes later. The two Jagdfliegeren with one victory apiece walked back to the Kasino to get a drink and wait for their Jastafürher to return and claim their kills.

Great pics as always Fullofit....and great stories too!

Regards,

Jeff

Well, I've had a great deal to catch up on. Fullofit, first rate stories as always, with brilliant photos. Aldi is really throwing himself into the fight. Be careful of him. Robert, it's great to see Albert's score rack up. How many is he credited with now? Carrick, I'm starting to think your boy is a hospital commando. I guess he didn't finish the dirty novel he was reading there last time. Banjoman, it's great to see you back in action. MFair, good to see you here again, and I'd love to read more, old friend! Hope I haven't missed anyone.

Meanwhile, Demian Kraft is starting to have a little luck...

Memoir of Demian Kraft

Part 9

For the next few days we patrolled in heavy cloud, freezing and seeing nothing. On 20 and 21 March 1917, the weather completely closed in. Leutnant Wieland scheduled a morning parade on 20 March and made a point of walking past me without comment, although I am sure if he wanted to, there was fault to be found. I actually felt sorry for him. My first confirmed kill was one of only two in the past month. He was under a great deal of pressure from higher up to show results. After all, we had our new Albatros scouts. The last blast of winter, however, was making success impossible. Wieland retreated to his office.

Rosenstein and I managed a pass to go into Ostend. We had tea with a fellow he’d met, Mr. Saerens, a Jewish jeweller. They had a wonderful old house, tall and narrow in the Flemish style, just off the seaside promenade. There was a roaring fire and a serving-man brought us real Scotch whiskeys and treats of pickled herring and smoked fish. I thought of my poor parents’ hardships back in Sinsheim and felt very fortunate. Mr. Saerens quickly warmed up to me. He asked why I was not yet an officer, and Rosenstein laughed, saying he sounded more English than Belgian now. I asked Mr. Saerens about how the war has affected his business. He said that the king’s mistresses were gone, and then added with a twinkle in his eye that the German officers in the city had enough mistresses now to keep the jewellery business safe for another few years at least.

Afterwards I took Rosenstein to ‘T Gruen Huis, the little cafe I’d discovered with poor old Berse, my late billet-mate. Hanne served us and remembered me from before. She asked how the war was going for us. We had not much to tell her; she was the one with all the information. She told us that if what she heard was correct, come early to mid April we should be kept very busy down near Béthune or Arras. The English would want to take pressure off their French allies farther south. “Eat well,” she told us. “You’ll soon be transferred south and the food there will be terrible!” Hanne, I decided, should have a position on Ludendorff’s staff!

On 22 March, Ltn Kampe led Galetschky, Rosenstein, me, and a new Feldwebel named Ernst Bartsch (also my new billet-partner at the Sloots’ house) on a defensive patrol down to Rumbeke. I was at the rear of the formation, keeping an eye on Bartsch and cursing him for not being more attentive. That was when I heard the pop-pop-pop of a Vickers gun and saw the tracer flashing by a few inches from my head. I had been completely surprised by a lone Sopwith Pup. I turned my Albatros towards him and we had a splendid fight. The English machine was well flown and could out-turn me at higher altitudes, but I had a faster mount and two quick-firing Spandaus to his one little Vickers slingshot. We fought down to 700 metres before I hit him during a turn. The little Sopwith turned away and I was on him in an instant. I fired from very close behind. My guns jammed, but the Tommie’s engine was kaput and he glided down to a field behind Passchendaele Ridge. I cleared by Spandaus and watched the Tommie jump from his machine. He had no chance to destroy it, for a dozen Fusslappenindianer [1] ran out to take him prisoner.

When I got back I tried to hunt down the unit that had my Englishman, but we were too late to invite him for dinner. Nonetheless, we received confirmation of the victory, so now I had two – and nearly back to back. Even Ltn Wieland spoke kindly that night in the Kasino.

On 23 March we went back to Rumbeke. We spotted two BE2s and Luer and I chased one back over the lines. It fell in flames, but the credit went to Luer. We were become a happier little gang! To make matters even better, a colonel from 4th Army HQ visited that afternoon and called me on parade to award me the Iron Cross. Second Class. Now I had some letter-writing to do!

On 24 March 1917 I developed a new level of respect for Hanne. Orders arrived that evening to prepare to move in the morning to a new station at Phalempin, south of Lille. We worked until after midnight getting everything on our trucks and wagons. At 10 the next morning we left for our new home...


"The little Sopwith turned away and I was on him in an instant."

Notes:

[1] Fusslappenindianer = "Footwrap Indians," infantrymen. Footwraps were folded squares of cloth often worn instead of socks. Properly done, footwraps could be as comfortable as socks and were easier to dry and clean.

Great job Raine...always enjoyable to read and see your AARs!

Regards,

Jeff

Wow, gorgeous picture and another wonderful story, Raine. The heading under the picture gives the feeling of reading a graphic novel. Well done! And Aldi finally has a nice sparkly bangle he can wear on his chest to woo the frauleins! Who knows, you may even warm Lft. W's heart eventually.

+1

I love reading these reports when I've got time too. RL work gets in the way of me committing to much flying these days.

I'm actually sat on my digger having a brew as I post this

Some great stories that I'm reading..keep up the great work guys

Thanks for the compliment Jeff!

Raine, finally some respect for poor Demian.

Thanks Guys, it looks like Helmut my need a whole rabbit instead of just a foot. Good thing the Hospital saved his bed.