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#4417670 - 04/24/18 09:10 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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The DR I does seem to be a little Beast at times.

Jerbear: Herr Meyer does seem to rush Headlong into fights.

#4417674 - 04/24/18 09:48 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Fullofit Offline
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Fullofit  Offline
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MFair, 43rd you say? Well, I'm glad Jasta 18 helped them find their aerodrome.

25 December, 1917
Jasta 18, Avelin

Christmas Day. Aldi was sitting in the cockpit of his Pfalz desperately trying to warm himself up. The engine was still not running evenly, a sign that it too is still too cold, but he couldn’t wait any longer. A call came in about enemy kites crossing the lines and it was up to Jasta 18 to intercept. Dark, heavy clouds were hanging low beneath a lead grey sky and it looked like the rain will come down any minute. But it was too cold for rain. Better make that sleet or snow. Finally, they were ready for take off. Aldi begun to roll on the hard ground crisscrossed with frozen mud wheel track. His whole body was shaking, rattling his teeth and blurring his vision. Off the ground and into the needles of piercingly cold wind lashing his face. Higher and higher. The weather took a turn for the worse and the snow started to come down in large flakes. Visibility was poor and getting worse by the minute. It got to the point that there was no point loitering around looking for the enemy. They could be only a few meters away and they wouldn’t be spotted. Aldi was about to turn back. It was then that the black explosions attracting his attention proved him wrong. A flight of khaki coloured aeroplanes was flying low, searching for landmarks, obviously lost in the snowstorm. Schwarzkopf didn’t wait for an invitation and took both Ketten down to attack from behind.

[Linked Image]

A flight of SE 5’s was taken totally by surprise and with the superior numbers the battle was going well for the German Fliegers. Aldi took great care not to tangle with any of them as there were two or three Albatrosen for each British SE. Despite this advantage Klein was being chased by one of the Englanders and Aldi had to intervene. The British pilot, too busy to notice Schwarzkopf, took a few rounds from Aldi’s Spandaus and disengaged.

[Linked Image]

The German ace didn’t follow through with his attack seeing Klein pick up the initiative. He spotted a lone SE 5a and went after him.

[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]

Soon after von Beaulieu-Markonnay joined the hunt.

[Linked Image]

Together they brought the Englander down west of Lille.

[Linked Image]

Aldi had enough of this weather and turned for home, but not before noticing another SE trying to sneak by in the opposite direction. He dove on the enemy and connected a few well placed rounds.

[Linked Image]

The enemy, in his desperation, started to climb but his plane already damaged was easily tracked by Aldi’s Pfalz.

[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]

Another volley from his Spandaus and the British pilot slumped in his seat with the plane nosediving into the ground below.

[Linked Image]

The snow kept coming down. Aldi had to fly low to navigate his way back home. He was looking forward to a warm seat in front of a roaring fire and a snifter of French brandy in his hand.

Attached Files 1.jpg2.jpg3.jpg4.jpg5.jpg6.jpg7.jpg8.jpg9.jpg10.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."
#4417685 - 04/24/18 11:13 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Raine Offline
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I have been working on the road for a little over a week, so this is my catch-up post! But first, the kudos. Fullofit, your pictures and stories are always magnificent, but there was something about that last group of pic that was really special. Thanks for sharing! Jerbear, your accounts have a true period feel. I particularly liked the note about Mary Louise Rochester singing at the Y. It sent me to read up on her. I was interested to note that her mother sang at the Columbian Exhibition in Chicago in 1892. Great stuff! MFair, sorry about the loss of Critt. I sense that your man is coming to that stage of the career where you realise you're all alone with strangers. Robert, Godfrey just keeps on truckin'. I haven't had the time yet to view all your videos, but I'm saving that for my morning coffee before work tomorrow. Carrick, some careers have highs and lows. Yours just has mounds and curves. Try to get some time out of the hospital.

And Hasse, I'm so very happy to see you back. How are you finding the Breguet. I've flown in only once and found to my surprise you can dogfight the things!

Here is Corderoy's latest. He struggled with combat fatigue but is fighting out of it.

Diary of Maj. Geoffrey Corderoy, 70 Squadron RFC
Part 45: 9-21 December 1917


9 December 1917 – Poperinghe aerodrome


The loveliest sound to which one can awake is the drumming of rain on a tin roof. I lay in my bed past seven, feeling my body weighting down the mattress, heavy, unmoving, utterly relaxed. I lit for a cigarette and watched a trickle of water on the far wall catch the glow. My fingers show dark lines where gun oil has penetrated skin cracked from cold. The first two fingers of my right hand appear odd, slightly amber in tone. I hold them up to catch the bit of light that makes it through the oilcloth window. Damn. They are nicotine-stained. Hands like a bloody navvy!

I sit up and study my hands, then quickly stub out the fag. The knee is sore and I limp crossing the room to the mirror by the washstand. The character I see there is a beaten sort of chap, not me at all.

For the next half-hour I wash as thoroughly as possible. Akerley, my batman, appears with shaving water and I get him to bring a tin tub and as much hot water as he can muster. It is time to start afresh. By the time I appear in the mess my hands are raw, my hair is washed and brilliantined, and my moustache, which had developed into a Trenchard-like hedge, is a trim and rakish dark line. I am wearing boots, which I haven’t done in some time. My best tunic is pressed and brushed.

It has been tea and toast most mornings, but today I convince the steward to produce black pudding and eggs. Aldred and Quigley join me and speculate endlessly about the leave list.

“Oh, it’s too beastly,” Quigley announced at one point in the conversation. “Waiting and counting the days until one is sent packing for the leave boat, all the time knowing that the Hun is eagerly trying to give one’s spot to some other fellow.” That comment led to a long discussion and several others – Gorringe, Todd, and Seth-Smith – joined in. At length we ordered some tea and rum brought to my quarters and continued the chat in comfort.

All this is to say that we all became rather philosophical for an hour or two, and two camps emerged. The larger camp – all save Gorringe and me – held that holding onto hopes and desires was just the thing to keep one’s wits. I recalled reading the Stoics, Seneca and Epictetus most notably, and argued that one is better off living in the here and now and accepting whatever life or war throws one’s way. If one is lucky and the war ends, there is time enough to grab whatever peace may bring.

We broke off for lunch, but the idea stayed with me. My entire time in France has been spent thinking about things I cannot control. Will I live or die? Have I made my parents proud? Am I an effective squadron commander? Is Catherine’s professed love a figment of her imagination? Should I reciprocate, even though I scarcely know her? What will I be trained to do when the killing stops?

After lunch I took up a pen and wrote to Catherine. The letter is gone in the post, but said essentially this.

Dear Catherine,

Thank you for your lovely letter of 2nd inst., which arrived yesterday. I still do not know when I might get my next leave and see you, but I have a request of you which I pray you will respect. When we met in Oxford, poor old Scarborough had just been reported missing and assumed killed. I went to see you out of a sense of duty to one of my pilots, and out of a respect for a man I called a friend, although in another time we would scarcely be called acquaintances.

Your letters since that visit surprised me, warmed me, thrilled me. I have responded, professing a love that I confess I still question. Do I love you, or my imagination of you? You are a fond memory, but a memory indeed. We met so briefly. I have clung to the idea of you, and that idea has softened the experience of air fighting. It has given me a goal to cling to.

But it has also weakened me. I worry that I have built a fantasy, that I have not been fair to you, and that I am resting my soul and my mind on a dream that may crumble away when we meet.

So it is that I ask you not to write me. I have resolved to live in the present, to accept whatever that present condition brings, and to fight as well as I can, lead as well as I can, and take the world as it is. Here and now.

Should I make it to my next leave, I shall visit you at once, I promise. Then, in that future “present”, we shall make of the world as we see fit. But not before then. I simply cannot live with pretty pictures of an imaginary future while navigating the threatening skies of this day.
With greatest affection. For now,

Geoffrey


10 December 1917

Rain turning to snow. No flying. I feel a great freedom. I called Major Baring at Fienvillers, and asked if he could put his hands on anything by the Stoics. He is sending me Arrian’s Discourses. Also Piccadilly Jim by Wodehouse “in case I get too educated.”

11 December 1917

Defensive patrol south. Encountered a group of DVs on our side of the lines. Quigley bagged one and we chased the others home. Damned Camels can’t keep up. Patrolled north to Menen and scrapped with some DIIIs. I sent one down but it tumbled into low cloud and could not be confirmed.

12 December 1917

Escorting RE8s over the salient. Nothing seen.

13 December 1917

Escorting RE8s again. Chased a DFW that got too close and damaged it before it dived away.

14 December 1917

Defensive patrol north to the coast. Engaged a Rumpler, but got a little too eager and took damage. Landed at Bergues for lunch with the Navy.

15 December 1917

Cold day. Needed to parade the entire squadron to tramp down the snow on the field so we could fly this morning.

Joined Captain Arthur at nine for an OP over the salient. He leads us up to 13,000. The Camel is not nearly at its best here. Large grey clouds spread out below us and the sunshine above is intense, burning any exposed skin at the same time as the air freezes it. Suddenly ahead of us and slightly above there appears a mass of tiny dots milling about in loose formation. We climb to meet them and the unmistakable Venetian-blind silhouettes of Fokker triplanes emerge from the glare. What a stomach-tumbling fight! The Hunnish tripehounds climb like lifts and can turn with the best Camel. My flying deficiencies show quickly, for at this height I quickly stall by machine and find a Fokker on my tail, shooting pieces out of my poor grid.

I spin out of the scrap and recover to see a tripehound on one of our chaps. I get behind him without being spotted and put a long burst into him. The Hun, a greenish affair with a red band around its fuselage spins out of control like a pinwheel. I cannot follow it, for two other dive on us and we entertain them for several minutes before, inexplicably, the sky is empty and it is time to head home for second breakfast. My tripe was not witnessed, so this too is recorded merely as driven down.

Capt. Arthur did not return. At one point in the morning’s fight I saw a streak of black smoke trailing earthwards. Poor devil.

16 December 1917

Escort two naval DH4s to Langemark area. Nothing seen.

Rehearsals for Christmas show. The men have prepared one of the hangars as a theatre. Their work is really first rate.

17 December 1917

Blowing and snowing. Chaplin showing in the spare hangar cinema. Over to 29 Squadron for drinks with Molesworth.

18 December 1917

Blinding snow again. More rehearsals. Books arrived from Baring.

19 December 1917

Flew over to Rumbeke and shot the place up properly. Koch bought a chicken and dressed it in a tiny felt suit like Father Christmas. He dropped it onto the Hun field during the attack, along with a note suggesting the Huns take the bird home to their families and enjoy a few weeks’ rest.
Mess steward prepared a particular poor meal tonight, overcooked sausage and potatoes. We tried to convince Koch to fly over and reclaim the bird.

A new flight commander, Gifford, arrived. He last flew here on DH2s, God help him.

20 December 1917

More snow. Took the Standard and went for tea with Gifford at TocH. Twice had to push the car coming back.

Two days until the concert. Handbills are out – the “Poperinghe Camel Caravan.”

21 December 1917

Escort RE8s from 9 Squadron south to Oppy. Encountered a pair of Pfalzes and chased one down until we were skimming the rooftops of Loos, or rather what remained of such rooftops. Quigley was with me as I put burst after burst into the Hun from mere feet away. Suddenly the thing flipped over and dived under me. I put about to finish him, but the Hun was gone. There was no telltale column of smoke, so we searched the sky for the fellow. The Pfalz was silver and yellow and certainly would have shown up against the ground. We could assume only that it had crashed into one of the streets below.

Unfortunately, Wing would not confirm the kill. So it remains. Here and now. My 35th official victory remains elusive.

[Linked Image]
"I put burst after burst into the Hun from mere feet away."

Attached Files Unconformed Pfalz.png
#4417700 - 04/25/18 02:42 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Raine: I know, My pilot seems to have more Hospital time then Flight Time.

#4417807 - 04/25/18 09:53 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Fullofit Offline
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Fullofit  Offline
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Raine, that is a long stretch of reports you’ve just made. Time seems to be of a premium currently. Good flying and can’t wait for Cathy’s reply!


"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."
#4417844 - 04/26/18 12:41 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: Fullofit]  
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jerbear Offline
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Fullofit - I like that pic with the exploding shrapnel round, that's hard to capture.

#4417847 - 04/26/18 12:53 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Fullofit Offline
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Fullofit  Offline
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Thanks Jerbear! You're right, that was a fluke. I was so glad to have caught it I made a grab from a slightly different angle too. Glad you like it!
[Linked Image]

Attached Files Flak.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."
#4417865 - 04/26/18 02:55 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Raine Offline
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Raine  Offline
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Last post until I'm back from a quick working trip to the UK next week. Corderoy went through a spell of 13 straight rejected claims, but luck has changed.

Diary of Maj. Geoffrey Corderoy, 70 Squadron RFC
Part 46: 22-27 December 1917


22 December 1917 – Poperinghe aerodrome


The great day of our concert has arrived. But first there is work to be done, an escort of some Harry Tates down south to Monchy. We fly high above the cloud layer that carries a threat of sleet, shivering in brilliant sunshine. Over Oppy we meet very accurate Archie. It always surprises me how good the Hun gunners are. I do not believe we put our best men to work in our Archie batteries, but the Hun seems to employ mathematical wizards and sharpshooters in theirs! The RE8 jockeys begin parading their beat while their observers assiduously change plates. I am leading B Flight, as this is the first time over for a new flight commander named Gifford. We circle the area and keep a watchful eye out.

After a while four machines approach from the south. There are two observation machines and a pair of Pfalz scouts. One of the Pfalzes, not seeing us, peels off and dives at the RE8s. We’re on him in seconds and I fire a long burst from a few yard behind and above. I can see the tracer falling all about the cockpit, see the pilot fall forward. The Hun machine, silver with a yellow diamond, begins an ever-steepening dive to destruction.

[Linked Image]
"The Hun machine, silver with a yellow diamond, begins an ever-steepening dive to destruction."

Back at Pops, my claim is called in and within an hour rejected by Wing. I am sick of this. There are rumours. The commander, Lieut Col Scott, is said to be protective of Bishop’s record. But the fellow at the other end of the line is a staff captain named McNeil, who as a lieutenant was RO at 46 under Major Babington. I remember him and suspect he harbours Babington’s skepticism for all things Corderoy.

Our concert, however, puts me in a better frame of mind. Colonel Scott attends, as does the Brigade commander. More to the point, the Wing chaplain attends with a special guest, the visiting Archbishop of York.

The opening turn is a rousing rendition from Gilbert and Sullivan, a parody of the Modern Major-General with RFC terms substituting themselves. Then comes my debut – my bit is to be interspersed between every act as scenery is changed behind the main curtain. A small copse of trees suggests a wood, from which I peer lewdly at a fair damsel skipping along a track – the ravishing Private Aldringham, who has thrown himself far too happily into his role. I emerge, all cape and oily leer, twirling my moustaches and grinning lustily from beneath a cavalier’s hat.

“Aha, damsel,” I cry, “TO THE WOOD!”

“No, no,” responds the fair Aldringham. “I’ll tell the squire!”

“I AM the squire,” I announce. “TO THE WOOD!”

From there the next act continues, Gorringe narrating a story about a small Canadian town and the “Marine Excursion of the Knights of Pythias.” The story is very funny and a huge success. Then the curtains close, the copse reappears, and leering, lecherous me enters again. Along comes Aldringham, skipping and singing and smelling daisies.

“Aha, damsel! TO THE WOOD!”

“No, no,” cries Aldringham. “I’ll tell the vicar!”

“I AM the vicar,” I announce. “TO THE WOOD!”

Then it’s a medley of songs from the Bing Boys. Back to me and my cape.

“Aha, damsel! TO THE WOOD!”

“No, no,” protests Aldringham. “I’ll tell the Wing Chaplain!”

“I AM the Wing Chaplain,” I announce. “TO THE WOOD!”

Hoots and cheers and stamping of feet. The Wing Chaplain feigns a chuckled and glances nervously at the Archbishop. The curtain parts on the squadron’s band playing ragtime, followed by a minstrel act. Then it’s back to the copse. The virtuous Aldringham skips in from stage right.

“Aha, damsel! TO THE WOOD!” Now I am at my most lecherous, cape rakishly across my face.

“No, no,” protests Aldringham. “I’ll tell the Archbishop of York!”

I let the cape drop. “Oh, I say. This IS sticky.” There is a pause. “I’m afraid, my dear, that the Archbishop works the other woods.”

This brings the house down, and even the balding and austere archbishop joins in the laughter and applause, to the great relief of the senior officers present.

23 December 1917

Off at eight o’clock, leading A Flight with a new man, Captain McArty. We have bombs slung and the target is the Hun aerodrome at Phalempin. It’s a straight run in through clouds. There is a row of Pfalz scouts being run out for take-off and we sweep over the field dropping our bombs. There is wonderful destruction.

Two enemy machines trundle across the field between the burning wreck and climb over the trees. I get behind the second one and fire. It bursts into flames and falls! Quigley chases the other. It is all over in seconds and I fire a green flare, our signal to regroup. Suddenly Howson waggles his wings and leads us northward. Several more Pfalz machines are up from Houplin. I circle with one of the Huns, but a Pfalz cannot turn with a Camel and I catch him in the turn. The EA falls out of control.

Finding myself alone, I head northwest over the lines. As I approach the line of the Lys, I spot a lone grid, slightly above me. It is yet another Pfalz. I stalk it carefully and climb onto its tail. As soon as my Vickers guns begin to chatter, the Hun spins earthward. I follow at full throttle, for the Pfalz dives like a gannet. The Hun tries to pull out. As I suspected, he is unhurt. But the silver machine cannot escape me and I dive onto the tail. The Pfalz shudders under the impact of the twin Vickers and its propeller begins to fan about more slowly. I pull alongside the Hun and point earthward. The German pilot nods his head and makes for an open field just north of the river, near the village of Steenwerke. I blip the Clerget and sideslip, just clearing a telegraph line. My Camel drops into the same field and I come to a stop a hundred yards from the Hun.

[Linked Image]
"My Camel drops into the same field and I come to a stop a hundred yards from the Hun."

I clamber out and draw my pistol. “Guten Morgen! Sprechen Sie Englisch?” I have used nearly my entire German vocabulary in this greeting.

The pilot pulls off his leather helmet and smiles faintly. “Yes. You have me surprised. Maybe we go for breakfast now?” His accent is heavy but he speaks English fairly well, I think.

The fellow climbs down and offers his hand. I motion for him to turn around and check him for a weapon. He has none. I holster mine, or rather return it to my Sidcot pocket. “Do you have a cigarette?” he asks, but I explain that I quit the things and smoke only a pipe. Some soldiers approach, running across the field with fixed bayonets. They are all Irish, Ulstermen. At first they are a bit belligerent, but I sort that out. They agree to guard our machines and point me down a road towards a distant hamlet. Their unit is in bivouac around the area, and I can find a telephone there.

In the village, my pet Hun causes quite a stir. I visit the battalion HQ, where a bemused captain lets me call the squadron. I ask them to send a recovery vehicle for the Pfalz, a pilot for my Camel, and my car. I also make three claims from today’s action. I contemplate going for coffee at an estaminet across the street, but the captain suggests that the locals would not be too friendly if I brought my pet Hun to tea. The chap’s name is Wolfram Berger, and he’d been a saloon steward on the SS Hamburg before the war, which was where he polished his English. We chat quite amiably and, although he gives little of real military interest, we talk flying like old mates.

A sergeant shows up with my Standard, and I invite Leutnant Berger for a drive. He quite enjoys it, although he thinks the car ridiculously small. “A toy,” he calls it. I drive directly to Poperinghe, drawing stares as I make my way with Wolfram through the market square. As soon as I pull up, Lieutenant Gregg informs me that Wing has refused to confirm any of my kills. The flamer and the one downed near Houplin were not witnessed, and the one I forced down – well, there were other friendly aircraft in the area. We do not alight. Instead I call for the mess steward to bring me a bottle of champagne, tell Berger to hold on, and race away skidding on the frozen mud, heading south for Wing HQ at Mont Rouge, near Locre.

I pull up with a squeal of brakes in front of headquarters and storm in, demanding to see Captain McNeil. I am directed to a small office at the end of the hall. I tell Berger to wait in the hall and enter. McNeil recognizes me at once and says, with false charm, “Why, Major Corderoy, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Captain, you and I are going to open this bottle and celebrate my thirty-fifth official victory.”

“You claimed three earlier, none of which can be confirmed. Please don’t tell me this is number four.”

I strip the foil from the bottle and begin working the cork with my thumbs. “’Fraid not, old boy. I can’t bring you a souvenir of the two I downed this morning in Hunland. But for the third, I’ve brought Hunland to you. Berger!” I call his name loudly and the Leutnant enters, click his heels in best comic-opera style, and salutes.

“Allow me to introduce Leutnant Wolfram Berger. He’s a good lad and won’t tell me his unit, but I’ll wager it’s Jasta 6. His Pfalz is being recovered as we speak. Now be a good lad and fetch us all some glasses.”

Within a minute there is a small crowd in the hall. I toast Berger’s health. He responds with a toast to the King. “Your King and my Emperor are cousins, of course,” he adds.

“Ah, every family has its problems. So does the King’s.” Berger takes it in good grace.

McNeil reluctantly confirms my thirty-fifth kill. I suggest that if he wants to question my claims, I would be happy to lend him a Camel so he can see what we do for himself.

24 December 1917

We had a wonderful dinner in the mess last night with Berger as our guest, and turned him over to the Provost Marshal around eleven, paralytically drunk. Before he left, we exchanged addresses and promised to meet after the war.

Off at 8:15 this morning, back to Phalempin. We created more ruins and returned north. Over the Lys I spotted a lone DFW and pursued it. I hit it from its blind spot and it fell in a spin, crashing near the river just behind our lines. I called the claim into McNeil myself and offered to have the smashed remains of the Hun aviators delivered to Mont Rouge.

McNeil confirms number 36.

[Linked Image]
"I hit it from its blind spot and it fell in a spin, crashing near the river just behind our lines."

Christmas, 25 December 1917

A wonderful snowy day, good food, good wine, good companionship. The fourth Christmas of this war – how many more? There is great speculation that the Russians have quit the fight, and that the war will hang on whether the Yanks will be here in force before the Huns are.
But for now, there is good cheer.

27 December 1917

After two blissful days of rest, we are sent packing to Phalempin for yet another raid. This time, however, the cloud is heavy and the squadron gets split up. Half the chaps attack the wrong field, although I manage to drop my bombs on some maintenance sheds at the proper target.
It is snowing heavily, but I spot two EA heading toward us from the direction of Avelin. I attack one of them and the other makes a cowardly retreat. My Hun is a dud pilot and he falls in seconds. I do not see him crash, but Hobson says he cartwheeled into a field. Gregg calls the claim in and very quickly Wing gets back to confirm number 37.

I suspect Herr Berger’s visit has made an impression.

Attached Files Rejected Pfalz.pngBerger and me.pngKill #36.png
#4417955 - 04/26/18 04:41 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: May 2016
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BuckeyeBob Offline
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BuckeyeBob  Offline
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Fullofit, gorgeous pictures, per usual, with a fine story, to bit!

Raine, another excellent tale. Do you write professionally? You certainly have the talent for it. I particularly liked how you incorporated the Hun you forced down into your story and used it to explain your renewed success getting claims confirmed.


“With Major Lawrence, mercy is a passion. With me it is merely good manners. You may judge which motive is the more reliable.”
#4417964 - 04/26/18 05:27 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Hasse Offline
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Busy with real life, but I'm greatly enjoying your stories and pics! This is always such a great way to add a bit of extra immersion and excitement to WOFF flying. Keep the stories coming!

Here's a belated entry from Charles:

From the War Diary of Charles Linder.
Escadrille BR 11, Verdun.


16 Dec. -17

Today, the CO took me on a practice flight over the front. I had Lieutenant Marius de Rose as my observer. Like everybody else in the Escadrille, Marius is an old hand at the game. He even has one victory under his belt, for which he was decorated with the Croix de Guerre with palm! This wasn’t a real combat mission yet, but a “sight-seeing tour” to show me our area of operations. (Our Escadrille is attached to 2e Corps d'Armée under General Cadoudal, which in turn is part of 2e Armée of General Hirschauer holding the Verdun sector. 2e CAR is now positioned some 10 km to the west of Verdun in the Dombasle-en-Argonne sector, facing north against the boche lines.)

I’ve been told it has been rather quiet here since the latest offensive operations came to an end in early September, but I was still rather excited about the whole affair and slept badly last night.

We didn’t carry any bombs or cameras, so our machines were lighter than normal. The biggest problem turned out to be the weather. Ever since I joined the Escadrille, it has been either raining or snowing almost constantly (and of course the others are already making jokes about it). We took off successfully in the rain and I then followed the Capitaine to the west, taking great care to maintain my position on his wing. It was important for me to see the lay of the land, so we stayed below the cloud cover, under constant barrage of rain and sleet. I doubt I could have spotted a boche machine even if one had been flying right next to us!

The country below us was utterly ravaged by last year’s fighting. I’ve never seen Verdun in peacetime, but I can imagine it will take years - maybe decades - to recover from the damage. Shell craters of all sizes litter the landscape and very little seems to grow amidst the desolation. It is outrageous - how the boche has despoiled and raped our beautiful land!

We soon reached the sector of our corps d'armée and I closely followed the Capitaine from one landmark to the next. I must become familiar with every nook and cranny of the front so that the observer can do his job properly. Fortunately it isn’t very hard to navigate this sector of the front. The river Meuse is not far, and Verdun itself is always visible.

After 20 minutes of sight-seeing, the Capitaine began to climb higher. I followed, and soon we were high above the cloud layer. What a magnificent sight it was! The bright sunshine and the beautiful clouds made me forget the war for a minute as I marveled these wonders of nature. My machine was performing beautifully and we reached 4000 metres in about 20 minutes - not bad for a two-seater!

We returned to Verdun and emerged from the clouds almost exactly above our field. The Capitaine sure knows his business! I can only hope that one day, I’ll be able to navigate half as well as our veteran pilots. I had no trouble landing my machine, though the rains have turned the field into a mudbath. The fantastic Breguet makes flying so simple that it almost feels like one is cheating somehow! Most importantly, the Capitaine and my observer were satisfied with my performance. Soon, I’ll be ready for action.

All things considered, not a bad start to my real war service in the Aéronautique Militaire.

[Linked Image]


"Upon my word I've had as much excitement on a car as in the air, especially since the R.F.C. have had women drivers."

James McCudden, Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps
#4417989 - 04/26/18 07:42 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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MFair Offline
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Gents, the literary mastery here astounds this child! Fine reads. Really great to see you back Hasse. Raine, hardly any way to deny a claim with the Hun pilot in tow!


Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end.
BOC Member since....I can't remember!
#4418033 - 04/27/18 01:13 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Fine pics and stories all.

#4418036 - 04/27/18 01:31 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Luthor Linderman
Feldwebel , 9 Victories.
Schwarm Zwei, Jasta 27
Rekken, Flanders.

Status :
30 missions
25.62 hrs
Claims 12 e/a
Confirmed 09 e/a

April 26, 1918.

Schwarm Zwei with 5 a/c was posted for Dawn Patrol. ObLt. Goring led, but turned back due to ruff engine ? Lt. Ritterman took over and led us to a bounce on Britishers slightly below off to the Port-side. I did much better in handeling the DR I although I stalled twice in the fight with 6 Camels. Our Topcover joined the fight and a total of 3 e/a were claimed for 2 damaged DR I's. I can vouch for 2 as I saw them go down. No score foe me I did a ground loop upon landing adding damage to the wing 1 day to repair.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-04-26 17-51-28-36.jpgCFS3 2018-04-19 15-46-56-62.jpgCFS3 2018-04-19 18-39-29-74.jpg
#4418181 - 04/28/18 12:36 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: carrick58]  
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jerbear Offline
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2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron USAS

April 23rd 1918

I have plenty of experience with getting into a spin, but today I learned how to get into one DELIBERATELY. I have become very proficient at getting out of them already, witness the fact that I am still alive to write this. Pat Ingersoll of the 139th Aero is not. He was doing spirals over the field and had just finished one and was S-ing onto the field. Just as he made his last turn he went into a spin at about 150 feet, killed instantly.

April 24th 1918

Our Major and Major Hartney of the 27th have us all working on a large number of defective aircraft, mostly Nieuports, in a hangar on the main field. We're testing motors and doing test flights on the machines after the mechs have worked them over. This is all part of a deal the Majors are working with Col. Kilner to try to get us out of this mud hole.

April 25th

Rained last night and into the morning, so it was no bon (2) for test flights, or any other flying for that matter. The clay mud held our speed down so much that we couldn't get airborne. One of the refurbished machines went into the ditch at the end of the field.

Found out that the 139th won't be joining the 1st Pursuit Group with us. They'll be going to another group being formed. Major Angstrom and Major Hartney flew over to Tours to try to get the brass to change their minds but you have to have a mind first before it can be changed.

(1) Lt. Colonel Walter G. Kilner, commander of 3rd Aviation Training Center during part of Jun and July 1918. I am not certain what his position within the chain of command at 3rd AIC was at this time.

(2) No bon - WW1 slang, no + the French bon


Last edited by jerbear; 11/01/18 11:33 PM.
#4418257 - 04/28/18 08:23 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Luthor Linderman
Feldwebel , 9 Victories.
Schwarm Zwei, Jasta 27
Rekken, Flanders.


April 28, 1918.


Off on a balloon mission only to get jumped by 2 seat types ? We were just diving on the target as they dove on us. The schwarm scattered and I made a climbing starboard turn. At one time I had 2 on my tail,but managed to stay out of the line of fire. Took a few shots at one and may have damaged him. The a/c seemed to wobble away as a second e/a dropped on my tail. I found that I could out climb him and soon he fell off in a stall. Since we were deep on the enemy side of the lines, I decided to RTB. Final Total: No Balloon, 2 Destroyed + mine damaged. Heavy ? The Jasta had 2 Damaged with a pilot wounded.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-04-28 12-26-57-13.jpgCFS3 2018-04-28 12-47-14-30.jpgCFS3 2018-04-28 12-49-27-62.jpg
#4418259 - 04/28/18 08:47 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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Ajax, ON
Wow! I just turn away for a moment and all these great stores pop up.
Raine, I’m so relieved you finally got a confirmation. I was beginning to think you found a new WOFF setting for confirmations: unrealistic. Good idea to drag that Hun with you.
Hasse, can’t wait to see how Johnny will handle the Breguet in battle. Are you planning to fly strictly as the pilot, or will you switch between stations?
Carrick, that Dreidecker looks good. What do I have to do to get me one of those? And don’t tell me: spend a lot of time in hospital.
Jerbear, are you actually practicing the spins in QC?

Last edited by Fullofit; 04/28/18 08:50 PM.

"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."
#4418287 - 04/29/18 10:04 AM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: Fullofit]  
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Hasse Offline
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Hasse  Offline
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Originally Posted by Fullofit

Hasse, can’t wait to see how Johnny will handle the Breguet in battle. Are you planning to fly strictly as the pilot, or will you switch between stations?


Strictly as the pilot. For DID purposes, jumping between the seats would seem unrealistic to me.


"Upon my word I've had as much excitement on a car as in the air, especially since the R.F.C. have had women drivers."

James McCudden, Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps
#4418354 - 04/29/18 07:19 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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jerbear Offline
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Fullofit - yes I do put in the hours for John in training. I am doing the acrobacy training on QC but not all of the stunts come off as I believe they would in real life. Some are better than others and some don're really come out at all. I have particular problems with the side slip in all the planes. No matter how hard I hit reverse rudder the nose always comes down and I go into a dive. All the pilots I read discussing the Nieu 28 say it almost seemed to respond to your thoughts before you touched the controls. It is very nice to fly in WOFF but in a flight sim you're never going to have that kind of relationship with your machine.

2nd Lt. John B. Goode
147th Aero Squadron USAS

April 26th 1918

With acrobacy finished, I packed my kit and reported to Field 7 with Pip, Simmy(1), Deuce, Dodd and Love (2). This is the best subfield yet. There are 8 hangars and the barracks are right behind them. The Y has a good canteen and the best officers recreation room imaginable. Our quarters are fine, bright and cheery, lots of room between cots and no upper bunks. Quentin Roosevelt, the president's son, is in charge here. He isn't well liked. I think he's like the rest of us, itching to be at the Front, but he doesn't have to take it out on the rest of us.

The 15 meter Nieuport with the 120 Clerget was explained to us and we were given our first hops in one less than a half hour after our arrival. Two short flights gave us enough understanding to fly them in formation.

This bus is harder to control because of the engine torque but the feeling of power is wonderful! In the afternoon I flew two formations, one with Dodd leading. We flew to Selles on the Cher River and back. On the next trip, Pip led Simmy and me southwest to Chateauroux.

Snake O'Neill has already completed his training, the first of us to do so, and with high marks. Unbelievable!

After completing his courses he had the balls to ask the Major for leave while the rest of us catch up. He wanted to visit his fianc'e in England. They had a row and the Major, as your would expect, came out on top. He was instead ordered to Epiez to help get the Nieuports we will be taking to the Front ready.

News came that von Richthofen is dead. Killed by some RFC Camel Jockey. That's good news and good riddance. One less to worry about.

April 27th 1918

Dodd Cassard's brother, his wife and sister-in-law paid him a visit here. The're on their way to Paris. All of in training on Field 7 were invited to a party to meet them at Monico's, in the Hotel Toulouse. Great time had by all.

April 28th 1918

Continuing to practice forming for patrols and formation flying in larger groups. Flew in a 10 man patrol at 5,000 meters today.

We all went down to the train station at Issoudun to see Dodd's people off this afternoon.

April 29th 1918

Rain, mud, no flying.

April 30th 1918

As we walked up to read the bulletin board this morning, Jack (3) turns around and yells, "Hey Guys" Looks like we're finally going operational! Whadda ya think of that!" We all whooped and yelled like high school kids! Cassard, Healy, Bronson(4), Stevens (3), Lawrence, O'niell, McDermott and the two Porters (5) are directed to travel immediately to Epiez!

The rest of us are to follow as soon as we can finish up at Field 7, I guess the deal with Kilner paid off. Hope there will be some Huns left by the time we get to the Front!

The Major is in Paris on his way to Epiez. We heard he left Mickey in the room by himself while he went to dinner. Mickey was full of piss and vinegar and raised a ruckass, tore up anything he could get to. Cost the Major 300 francs.

May 1st 1918

The pilots posted to Epiez left today.

(1) Lt. Francis M.(Simmy) Simonds - B Flight, 4 aerial victories

(2) Lt. Ernest A. Love, A Flight, KIA 15 Sep. 1918

(3) Lt. John H. (Jack) Stevens - C Flight , KIA 31 Jul 1918, one aerial victory

(4) Lt. Tyler C. Bronson - C Flight, transferred to St. Jean du Mont, 13 Oct 1918, 1 aerial victory

(5) the two porters Kenneth L. (Pip) Porter, C Flight, 5 aerial victories
Charles P. Porter, A Flight, 4 aerial victories


Attached Files issoudun 8 field 7.PNG
Last edited by jerbear; 11/01/18 11:38 PM.
#4418367 - 04/29/18 08:24 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Fullofit: Well if u dont want to spend a lot of time in the Hospital to get a DR I I suggest U go see https://giphy.com/gifs/Jw6wq1pItF2Ok/fullscreen

at 113 Rue de Lib ber tay , in Paris. and they can help U get what U want.

Last edited by carrick58; 04/29/18 08:26 PM.
#4418370 - 04/29/18 08:38 PM Re: DiD Centenary Challenge [Re: CatKnight]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
carrick58 Offline
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Luthor Linderman
Feldwebel , 9 Victories.
Schwarm Zwei, Jasta 27
Rekken, Flanders.



April 29, 1918.

My schwarm was covering Aerodromes this morning and I bagged a Camel I dont know if I will get credit. The flight was on the dog leg of the flight and I spotted 2 flights of camels engaging my old Jasta 52. Diving and turning to port, I ran head long into them. Zooming ,turning and climbing, I was able to ruff one up with repeated machine-gun bursts. I shredded his flight surfaces and down he wobbled crashing East of Julien near a Road. The Albatross Jasta 52 losted 2 a/c The enemy ? ,But I got 1.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-04-29 12-35-25-72.jpgCFS3 2018-04-29 12-50-54-67.jpgCFS3 2018-04-29 12-51-02-51.jpgCFS3 2018-04-29 12-51-39-03.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 04/29/18 08:40 PM.
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