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#4481366 - 07/04/19 11:51 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

Attention!

[Linked Image]

Le Ministre de la guerre, République Française, wishes to present an award to the following individual:

[Linked Image]

The people of France thank you sincerely for your patriotism and your loyal and faithful service.

.

#4481475 - 07/04/19 11:39 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Congrats to L'Americain! A well deserved gong.

4 July, 1916
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
46 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

Rain.


"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."
#4481681 - 07/05/19 10:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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What a nice surprise to come back to! Thank you, O Gong Fairy.

Voscadeaux's N.16 'Violette 2' & Rosenstein's Halberstadt D.II added to WoFF Profiles gallery!


Adj. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N.124 'Americaine'
Bar-le-Duc, France.

July 5th, 1916.


It was several days ago, as we were sitting down to breakfast around the dining table. Due to our recent string of successes in the air, Rockwell had been keeping a sharp eye on the papers, American and French, for any word of our exploits. Mostly, from the American papers, we were met with the depressing news of Americans who had been injured or killed in France. A brief eulogy was posted for Chapman, and another American named Jericho, who had been flying with the British. We were surprised and astounded to learn that, not only was the latter an ace, but he had accumulated his six victories on a tired, outdated Morane Parasol! We could not conceive how we hadn't heard of this artist before, with our best guess being that his R.F.C unit simply didn't have the same romance as our Escadrille in the eyes of the press. This was met by us with irritation - any man that can fly and fight in a Morane was worthy of respect.

Rockwell had been reading the paper again, on a morning like any other, when suddenly he let out a jubilant cry and shot up from his seat. “There! They mentioned our scrap from the 26th!”. Excitedly we crowded around him as he read through the article. American Volunteer Pilots Down Several German Aeroplanes. It was an American paper. Above the headline and below the name of the Newspaper, printed in small, unassuming black letters, was the date. July 28th, 1916. A familiar date. Why was it familiar?

Oh, of course. It was my birthday. I was Twenty-Three years old now.

Politely I excused myself from the dining table to be alone with my thoughts. My prior birthdays had been spent alongside Michael and Andrew - when we were younger, we would go to the park, or perhaps to the races. On my 13th birthday we saw an airshow. In later ages, we would hit the town, making our crooked way from bar to bar in San Francisco. It was my first birthday without them. Suddenly, I realised that I had never written Andrew about Michael’s death. Immediately I sought out pen and paper, and got to work. My head felt slightly hazy - caught between the ‘war’ me and the ‘life before’ me - my footing felt uncertain.

Thenault saw fit, as a birthday present (only he knew, and he had the tact to keep it private), to give me a few days’ rest. I spent these mostly in Bar-le-Duc, flitting about the Cafes before returning to the sitting room in the Villa, sharing a drink with some of the pilots. Some nights I would join in the poker games, held by Bert Hall, in which I would quietly ignore the cards he kept tucked into his socks, or up his sleeves.

On the 1st of July, the British in the Somme launched a major offensive. From what Luf tells me, it rivals Verdun in size. Some of the local Escadrilles have been transferred to the Somme region to support the British from the air - Le Violet’s Escadrille among them. Rumor has a way of spreading fast in the French air service, and the word is that Voscadeaux has already found the Somme to be a bountiful hunting ground. Some pilots say his score is already over fifty. We thought that this might mean a decrease in activity over Verdun, but on the afternoon patrol Thaw’s flight was attacked by six Eindeckers, and poor Blanchon was wounded in the arm. He’s been moved to the same hospital as Balsley, and the two share a ward. What a way for them to formally meet!

Yesterday I awoke to find the pilots rushing around the Villa, throwing on their uniforms frantically and congregating in the Foyer. Poking his head through the door, McConnel gasped as he saw me, still in bed. “Hell, Fullard! Get a move on! We’ll be late!”. I rubbed my eyes. “Late?” I mumbled, “What for?”. His jaw dropped. “You don’t know what day it is?!” he asked, incredulously. I paused for a moment, then, in shock, cried out “God! It’s independence day!”. Immediately I bolted from the bed, scouring the room for my uniform.

Once we had all gathered, Thenault led us in our fleet of staff cars to the aerodrome, where our Nieuports already awaited us. From there, we made the long flight to Paris, where a fete was being held. We headed to Lafayette’s tomb in Picpus Cemetery, where an American diplomat by the name of Mr. Sharp gave a speech. His words were carefully chosen to remain neutral, but we could all hear the twinge of patriotism and solidarity for France that inevitably crept its way in. Excitedly we murmured among ourselves. Is this the spirit back home? Is America entering the war?

After the ceremony, we milled around Paris for an hour or two. It is an incredible sight. Hordes of soldiers from all nations, an ocean of mismatched uniforms, a blend of languages. I spoke to one pilot who was on leave, a young Englishman who had been flying F.E.2s since the start of 1916. I asked him about his scarf, which was knitted from striking scarlet wool, and he explained to me the story of his days training at Hounslow. He and his compatriots had frequented the Cafe of a widower who had given each of them a lucky charm before leaving. For one, several sheets of music. For a second, a tin of tea (from which the pilot fashioned a small pouch, which he’d hang from his instrument panel), and, of course, for the young aviator, the red scarf. Sadly, as the young man explained, his charm had turned out to be more potent than that of his comrades, all of whom had since been killed. Despite this, the superstition fascinated me, and I wondered if it would not be worth finding myself a lucky charm.

When we returned to the villa in early evening, we found two new arrivals. There was Isaac Charbonnell, a French-American from New Jersey, and Ernest Provillan, a Frenchman. They stood to attention before Thenault as we quietly observed them, sizing them up. “Gentlemen. Welcome to Escadrille Americaine. Now, first things first. How many hours have you flown over the front?”.

The two men stiffened. After a short pause, it was Charbonnell who spoke first. “None, Capitane”. Provillan then mumbled “I’ve never flown over the front, mon Capitane”. Thenault’s lips thinned, as I shot McConnell an uncertain glance. “Christ alive, they’re fresh out of Pau!” whispered Bert Hall. I felt sympathy for the new arrivals - Verdun was a hot shop for a green pilot. The two reminded me of Victor Vertadier and I, when we had arrived at Escadrille 31. Victor had been so excited to finally make it to the front, to embark on his first combat flight. By the evening, he was dead.

As the two pilots were shown to their room, Thenault turned to face us with fury in his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said to us, in a chillingly cold voice. “I’ll sort this out”.

The day after, the heavens opened once more and all operations were scrubbed. From within my room I counted raindrops rolling down the window.

Last edited by Wulfe; 07/06/19 01:21 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4481736 - 07/06/19 10:30 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, good to know Switchie is still kicking around. Hopefully by now he has a proper girlfriend. I wonder what Lemoine is up to these days?
Fingers crossed for the two new arrivals. I expect them to survive at least as long as poor Victor. A lucky charm you say? Why not a mascot instead?

Rain continues to pour down over Cachy. Sergent Frougier has now been officially wiped off the chalkboard. Hopefully he will survive the war in one of the enemy prisoner camps. Perhaps he will attempt an escape?


"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."
#4481956 - 07/08/19 12:03 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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7 July, 1916 06:00 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
47 confirmed kills

The Fokker E.IV shot down over Bertincourt a few days ago has been confirmed.
This morning’s orders were to patrol enemy front lines west of Marchélepot. The ‘A’ flight went scouting ahead and Gaston's flight obediently followed in its wake. It was quiet and the patrol was an enjoyable cross country romp. Gaston was about to give the RTB signal when he noticed three silhouettes floating above the front lines. They went to investigate and found a trio of Fokkers on their way back home. Voscadeaux placed the flight in a gentle dive ahead of the enemy with the intent of cutting them off if they decide to run. They were close now. Gaston was fixated on the pair ahead. "- Wait a minute!" he thought to himself. "- There were three of them. Where is the third one?" He looked behind just in time to see not just that third monoplane, but further three that have just joined the fight. "- Where did these guys come from?!" It was another ambush. When will Gaston finally learn? “- Where there is one Eindecker, there are six more! He banked to meet his foe. The other two long forgotten. Thankfully the Schwarm that has just arrived was being kept busy by his boys. "- Boillot is getting old. He didn't spot these Huns." Gaston had only a second to make this observation before he made contact with his target. Gaston's fire was accurate and the Boche machine soon started to trail smoke and its pilot making large circles in order to put his plane down in a safe place. Gaston wouldn't allow it. He dove straight after his query and opened fire again, but he miscalculated the speed of his target and their wings touched. Gaston was jolted but able to keep Violette under control. His lower port wing was in tatters. "- I haven't done that in a while. I must be getting old." His plane was difficult to steer, but he made one more attempt to bring his opponent down on the French side of the mud. He circled as the Boche made a forced landing among the dirt, tree stumps and shrubs. The Hun was safely down and Gaston gently steered his scout back home. Upon his return he'd learned that de Geuser brought down two Fokkers. Gaston was impressed.



7 July, 1916 14:05 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
47 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

Violette was being repaired and Gaston had to use a loaner in the meantime. They were to patrol over Candas airfield. Gaston could see from the air how devastating this offensive has been so far. Great clouds of smoke and dust were rising east of his position obscuring the horizon. They encountered no enemy on their patrol. Maybe that's for the better. Voscadeaux wasn't feeling sure of himself when he was not flying Violette. He would have to fly this loaner one more day, while repairs are ongoing on his machine.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-07-07 PM.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."
#4481965 - 07/08/19 04:21 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Yikes, Fullofit! Be careful! The last thing we need is something happening to Gaston - nor Violette, for that matter! Besides, the Nieuport firm are running out of wings...Seems like the Somme is just as hot for Le Violet as Verdun was! Maybe you should have 'borrowed' a N17 from one of Esc N.3's hangars wink

Adj. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N.124 'Americaine',
Bar-le-Duc, France.

July 7th, 1916.


As I made my way downstairs to breakfast, I watched as Charbonnell and Provillan, our new arrivals, were escorted through the Villa’s entrance by a porter, suitcases in hand. I was surprised to learn from Bert Hall that, following a heated complaint from Thenault, they were to be sent to some other Escadrille in a quieter sector. “You’d send these fresh-faced boys to Verdun? That’s what he said! Hell, a good thing too. We don’t need no Hun fodder round here. Let some other suckers dig their graves. Ain’t that right, Fullard?”. I tried to mask my repulsion. “Yeah, sure thing, Bert”.

On the airfield, Thenault’s face was serious. “My dear fellows. Today, we shall be attacking the Bosche aerodrome at Bechamps, where we will destroy as many grounded aeroplanes and set as many fires in their hangars as possible”. Each pilot had a varied reaction. The bravest souls among us, Prince, McConnell & Rockwell, were elated. “An airfield raid!” McConnell shouted, “We’ll make those Bosche sorry, all right!”. Bert Hall’s crooked face wore a look of mortal dread. It was sad, almost pathetic, to regard. As for Blanchon, myself and Lawrence Rumsey - a recent arrival - we opted for nervous silence.

Eight machines were lined up on the aerodrome, and we were each assigned a wingman, whom we would mutually support. Mines was Blanchon. “Stick close to my tail,” I said to him as we pulled on our flying coats, “Look behind you every three seconds. If you’re hit, get the hell away from the aerodrome, climb, and head home”. Each instruction was met with a focused nod.

As I climbed into my cockpit I noticed several darkened spots appearing on my machine’s fuselage. Looking up, I cursed under my breath as I realised it was droplets of rain. As the wind picked up and caught the flying wires they sung quietly in a metallic voice. I willed the weather to relent as the take-off flare was sent up. We rushed forwards, one by one.

The weather decided to be merciful. As we climbed towards Verdun, bold rays of sun broke through the overcast sky, and pools of blue, like great inverted lakes, appeared overhead among the clouds. Blanchon and myself soon found we were being left behind - Prince, Hall and Rumsey all flew the faster Nieuport 16s. Fortunately, as I turned back to look over my shoulder, I saw three more of our number keeping an eye on us, with Thenault’s unpainted Nieuport at their head. After climbing above 3000 meters, Prince slowed the flight and allowed us to catch up.

As we overflew Verdun and the mud came into view through gaps in the cloud, I felt nervousness set in, and I internally willed the Bosche anti-air gunners to be poor shots. We crossed over the strip of murdered nature beneath, and begun to descend. I turned back to Blanchon and pointed at him, then at myself. Stick with me. He held up an enclosed fist - Understood. My eye was caught as a huge explosion kicked up mud, thousands of feet high, on the frontlines. We continued to descend as we crossed the threshold, and abruptly the first black puffs of German artillery began to burst around us. As we approached the Bosche balloon-line, the artillery expanded into a crescendo, the worst shelling I’d experienced yet. My hands tightened on the controls. The landscape turned to green, and ahead of me the enemy aerodrome emerged from the war-fog. Beside it hung an observation balloon, lazily swaying in the wind. I cursed under my breath - that balloon would have a battalion of A.A. gunners surrounding it.

Thenault’s gang were already working as we arrived. I watched nervously as the three Nieuports looped and rolled above the aerodrome, sweeping through bursts of artillery to fire their incendiaries at the hangars. Focus. It’s your turn now. We dove down and each picked out a hangar to attack. As I fired and curved away, a sheet of tracer fire rushed upwards at me. A moment later and artillery bursts swarmed my machine like angry bees. They had me perfectly sighted. I winced as I felt hot shrapnel sing through the air. I circled back and turned my attention to the insolent balloon, firing off a three-second burst. Suddenly, although I was still firmly pressing the trigger, my weapon ceased firing. It had jammed. Muttering a curse, I begun to climb toward the lines. I would be of no use now, with a stopped weapon, and, certainly, I was of no use dead.

The patrol arrived back a half-hour after my arrival, having had little success. Thenault was curious as to why he’d seen my Nieuport turn away from the battle. Fortunately, my mechanics hadn’t yet cleared the gun jam (as they were more concerned about patching the several bullet holes my machine had accumulated), and so I showed the Capitane. “Ah,” he said, his face lighting up. “I see! Hard luck, Fullard! Hopefully next time it will be more reliable”.

Next time. I certainly hope there won’t be a next time.

Last edited by Wulfe; 07/08/19 04:32 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4482060 - 07/08/19 11:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, my eyeballs are still sweating from reading this intense description of the raid. Gaston would probably try to set something ablaze with his wings, after his gun had jammed. I’m glad Fullard has more sense than that. I didn’t realize you were still flying the N11, you lucky sod! Just wait till you get promoted. You’ll see.

8 July, 1916 05:20 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
47 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

They were sent this morning to pop a balloon near Champien. Gaston watched the ‘A’ flight race ahead of them, as if this were some kind of a competition. He then saw them peel off over the No-Man’s Land. Probably Boillot, who was leading the flight, spotted some Huns and went after them, leaving the ‘B’ flight unprotected. Good thing they were able to take care of themselves. Gaston continued to lead the ‘B’ flight towards the balloon. He had to search the nearby area to locate it. Voscadeaux got to the balloon first and took it out with just a single salvo of his rockets. He watched with pleasure as the burning skin flopped down onto the ground below and then ordered his flight mates to return home. When they approached the airfield, the ‘A’ flight has already landed. Sergent de Geuser claimed the balloon. It turned out Gaston attacked the wrong target. He was so embarrassed he did not claim his kill.



8 July, 1916 13:20 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
47 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

“- Finally, an easy one!” Gaston thought to himself when he heard they would be patrolling over the friendly aerodrome of Léalvillers, NE of Cachy. On their way they flew over Lahoussoye aerodrome. Gaston saw two Parasols getting ready for take off. He thought the British chaps there were very brave to fly those death traps. Very brave, or very foolish. He made a mental salute to the brave fools below. They flew on by. Suddenly puffs of exploding shells in the distance caught his attention. Voscadeaux immediately turned to investigate the two specks flying in the direction of Amiens. He willed them not to be Rolands. They were now close enough to recognise them. They were monoplanes and they had altitude advantage. Gaston was careful not to give them too easy of a target and once they've split up, he picked the one that was followed by only one more Nieuport. The damned pilot was weaving constantly behind the Eindecker taking potshots and not doing any harm at all. Gaston was growing impatient and finally dove under the dancing Nieuport and came back up in front of him, with the Fokker in full view. He opened fire, scoring solid hits, but the E.IV was a sturdy bird and simply dove away with the other Nieuport following closely behind, nearly smashing into the ground in the process. Gaston stayed above observing the spectacle. The Nieuport was too low and would never catch the constantly-altitude-gaining monoplane. Voscadeaux dove on his prey again. More hits and the Fokker's engine started to cough up smoke. The Boche dove again and the second Nieuport finally caught up and finished him off. The Eindecker crashed just below. Gaston finally could see who the other pilot was. It was Adjutant Barnay and he had the biggest grin on his smudged face. Voscadeaux gave him the thumbs up sign and they both turned back to base. The Adjutant will definitely have a great story to tell.



"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."
#4482088 - 07/09/19 08:45 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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just some pics of the day




10 July 1916,
KEK Nord, Bertincourt

The past 10 days caught the German Kommand by surprise. But, despite day long bombardments, the tenacious German youth held on and was able to stem the tidal-wave of British soldiers wasting themselves on the uncut barbwire. The situation in the air had also seen some unpleasant developments too. Information was needed fast.

“Listen Otto, I'm well aware of the hard times you are having, but OHL.... I need your help in this matter.” Ltn.Parschau fell back into his seat. The unexpected visit from Hptm. Wimmer, Stofl 1.Armee, caught him off guard, and for a man who's life depended on not being surprised, Otto felt that he had been ambushed.

“Well were do I start Herr Hptm. I have seen this 3-winged aircraft myself. The pilot moved off as we approached him, and a chase deep into enemy lines was out of the question. I can't say that I saw any armament on top of the aircraft, which seems to be the style of our British colleagues. I'm not in touch with other units who may of met this fellow but rumor is that it climbs like a monkey.”

A knock on the office door broke the tension in the room. “that will be Willi, I asked him to come over as he has the most experience here.” said Otto. “YES, come in.”

Willi opened the door and entered the office. He noticed at once that Otto was not alone and that the Hptm that owned the parked staff car outside was with him. Willi snapped his heels together and introduced himself, “Herr Ltn....Ltn Rossenstein reporting as ordered.”

“Thank you Willi..... Willi this is Hptm Wimmer from Stofl. He's here to collect intelligence about the new enemy aircraft that we have encountered since the Big Push on the Somme. Tell us again about the 2-seater Scout's that Tommy now has would you.”

“Um, well yes Sir. We were taken by surprise the other day. For you see we were already attempting to get at two older Caudron's that we had found lurking around are third lines. When from the north came three more 2-seater aircraft. At first I beleaved them to be also on a Recce. And then they fell in among us. First glance and I could only see the rear gunner as being armed. But then I saw the tracer fire spitting out of a MG firing through the air screw. Firing forwards. Tommy must also have an interrupter gear for his aircraft now.” Willi looked at Otto, unsure as just how far he should proceed.

“And you fought this man Ltn.Rosenstein ?” asked the Hauptmann.

“Jawohl Herr Hptm.”

“And what do think of him, his scout Ltn?”

“Tommy is always a pugnacious fellow Herr.Hptm. But that's his fault. As for this 2-seater scout of theirs....well, you see”

“Get on with it man, don't you dare hold back now. I need to know.” said Hptm.Wimmer. “the Truth!”

“The truth is sir, she's a better machine Sir! It's faster, turns better and can fire in both directions too Sir. Her front gun must be belt fed, so no stopping to replace a #%&*$# magazine. If his passenger is any good then the normal attack from the rear is almost pointless Sir. And if I'm to be frank Sir.”
“Yes, why not Ltn.”

“The truth is, our machines, and I mean all of them, are under powered. The Enemy can dictate when to attack and can retire if need be. God knows how the Fokker Staffeln are to fight these newer aircraft Sir. We need newer, better, faster aircraft SIR!”

“Danke Ltn Rosenstein, that will be all.” said Otto, trying to quickly dismiss his friend before things went too far. Willi curtly withdrew from the Office.

“Are all your men like this Otto?”

“No Herr Hptm. Willi is one the best I have. Their all good actually, but what he said is correct. We need better aircraft Sir, or our losses will get worse.”

“Don't tell me about losses Otto, have you read the casualty lists....for both sides? And the worst thing is Otto, The OHL looks at me, and tells me that the front soldiers are screaming at us for not doing anything about those annoying enemy aircraft calling in artillery bombardments all day! ...I'm not oblivious to our problems Otto, but you'll have to wait.
Fokker says he's working on a biplane version of the EIII. And the boys at Johanistal also have something in the pipeline, but till then we have to prevent the enemy from lodging themselves over our trenches Otto. It's the cooperation aircraft that are priority Otto. So tell your men to stop wasting munitions on their scouts.”

“Still, I'm very proud of you and your men here at Bertincourt Ltn. Pass my best wishes around, you know, let them know that we appreciate all their sacrifice etc. Take care Willi, one day this will all end.” And with a one last salute from Otto, the staff car drove off to the next airfield.


Attached Files 1.jpg2.jpg3.jpg4.jpg5.jpg6.jpg7.jpg
Last edited by lederhosen; 07/09/19 11:46 AM.

make mistakes and learn from them

I5 4440 3.1Ghz, Asrock B85m Pro3, Gtx 1060 3GB
#4482197 - 07/09/19 11:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
9 July, 1916 05:30 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
48 confirmed kills

Violette's wing has finally been repaired and the Fokker responsible for the damage has also been added to Gaston's tally. The wing would still have to be painted to restore Violette to its full glory.
Today’s task was to meet up with Caudrons of Esc 11 and escort them on a reccy mission of the front lines near Arras. The ‘A’ flight would assist with the escort duties. They've met up with the bombers and arrived over the recon area right on time. Gaston could see in the distance the ‘A’ flight chasing some specks. The Caudrons were making their second pass when Gaston noticed Archie bursts ahead, right over the NML. They’ve approached the bogies. It was a pair of Aviatiks. One of them turned around and went straight east. The other one felt more adventurous and held his ground. It didn't take long for Gaston to come around and get on his tail. He opened fire and was greeted by return fire. He ducked under the two-seater and came around. He fired again, but with no result. His wingmen engaged the Aviatik as well by now and Gaston made another pass. There was some smoke and Voscadeaux thought he finally had him, but his Lewis ran dry and he had to abandon his target. To make matters worse his fuel tank had been punctured and he was losing petrol fast. He was in the middle of the NML when his tank was empty. His location was close to Arras, or what he thought was the city ahead of him. He knew he had enough altitude to clear the trenches, but will need to scramble to find a suitable place to put down. He picked a green field with little trees at the end in case he overshoots. An observation balloon went by. Then a herd of cows and he was finally back on the ground. As luck would have it, he stopped just beside a road. He was quickly picked up and driven back to base. His airplane would follow the next day. He would have to fly a loaner in the afternoon again.

9 July, 1916 13:35 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
48 confirmed kills

Orders came in to patrol friendly front lines near Marchélepot. Only the ‘B’ flight would go up this time. Too many planes were scattered all over the front to assemble two flights. Even Gaston was flying a loaned machine until Violette could be recovered. The patrol was uneventful. It appears the Germans were faced with similar logistical problems.


"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."
#4482255 - 07/10/19 01:03 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lederhosen - looks like you've been busy! The picture of the poor sods being chased by the entire luftstreitkrafte made me chuckle.

Fullofit - Glad to hear that Violette is back in business. Oh - or not! Perhaps Gaston should add some purple livery to that loaner. Congratulations on No. 48...not far to go before the big 50 now...

Bad luck for me so far today, had a great sortie that was action-packed to the brim, but then WoFF decided to crash on me just as I was making my claims! I was certain at least one would be confirmed as well. Lost the sortie and the flight time as well! Drat.


Adj. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N.124 'Americaine',
Bar-le-Duc, France.

July 8th, 1916


We were very pleased on the 8th, after our airfield-attack ordeal, to find out that we would have an easy day’s work. Our flight of eight, led by Thenault, was to patrol over the Argonne Forest, on our side of the lines. However, as it would turn out, our work wouldn’t be so easy as we had anticipated. Only moments after taking off, a gust of wind blew De Laage’s machine sickeningly close to Blanchon’s, and the two Frenchmen came horrendously close to colliding. Looking to my left in shock, I caught Masson’s eye, who gave me a worried glance in return. After this, we spaced our formation a little wider and, fighting the swells of wind and the ice-bullet rain, climbed up towards the Argonne.

Trying to control my shivering in the freezing cold, I bitterly thought of the phrase that Bill Thaw would remark in trying times; “Aren’t you glad you joined the army, boy?”. Over my shoulder I saw Blanchon start to fall behind. Fortunately, Prince was paying attention and slowed his own speed. Thenault, Masson and Luf climbed away and disappeared towards the North.

As we traced the rippling line of the Aisne river, I noticed a single aeroplane far away to our right. I wiped the rain from my goggles and strained my eyes, trying to determine its shape. It was a Nieuport. Strange. What’s he doing flying alone? I thought to myself. For some reason, seeing that lone machine made me wary. We reached the lines and turned onto our patrol route. However, the faster Nieuport 16s had soon left Blanchon and I behind, disappearing into the clouds. With an uneasy feeling I led Blanchon down the patrol route, keeping my eyes peeled for a glimpse of our flight. We flew slightly east, to St. Menehould, before turning back. To my happiness, our three comrades rounded a cloud, and we rejoined them. As we flew back West, I suddenly saw a large shape emerging from a cloud ahead of us. It was an Aviatik. Is he alone? I thought, scanning the sky above him. No. There - two Eindeckers, higher than the Aviatik, waiting to lash out at any pilots in search of an easy victory. Prince had seen them too, and he snapped his nose around to face them. The rest of our flight did the same, and I set my sights on the two Eindeckers. Bravely they turned to face us, the lead aircraft diving towards us and immediately being lost in a swarm of Nieuports. The second German stayed higher, and I zoomed up to his level. Cautiously we circled each other, and I knew at once that my opponent was an experienced hand. His movements were sure and calculated, and he matched my turn well. Simultaneously, we tightened our turns. Our duel had begun.

[Linked Image]

Quickly I was behind the German, and he rolled over and curved away in the opposite direction. I rolled after him and watched as he expertly flicked his machine out of the way of a second Nieuport - Prince’s. However, he still had me to contend with. Rolling onto his back, the German performed a sharp half-loop, and I felt my wings straining as I followed. The German rose up again and I fired a burst, which missed its mark. Again, we started turning, but this time I was too close to his tail, and he found himself in my sights. I fired a second burst. This time, I saw the impacts of the tracers - into the left wing. Immediately the German’s machine dipped downwards and to the left, and a moment later he was falling out of control in a wide spiral. It reminded me of the paper aeroplanes I had made as a boy, before I had learned how to make then fly straight.

[Linked Image]


There was a flash of green and brown. I watched, amazed, as Prince dove after the falling German at incredible speed, firing at him as he went. “No!” I cried aloud, “You’ll break your wings off, you fool!”. Prince seemed to realise this at the critical moment, and I watched, nauseated, as he pulled slowly out of his incredible dive. I had thought for sure he had killed himself, but his Nieuport mercifully stayed intact. Another flash, this time of yellow, passed over my head. The second Eindecker. Startled, I curved to follow, but before I could get behind him de Laage’s Nieuport dropped down onto his tail. I watched as the Frenchman sent the monoplane into an uncontrolled spin, before diving after it. Looking around, I realised I was now alone, and the wind had carried us into German lines. I decided to make for home.

As I crossed the lines, I looked around me for any sign of my flight. Two machines made themselves apparent, parallelling me to my left. With a jolt I realised that they were Eindeckers. Cautiously I curved away. The Eindeckers changed their course to match. They had seen me - and they were starting to dive. I braced myself and prayed that I had conserved enough ammunition to see them off. One dove over my head, and curved around to get on my tail, faster than I expected. I pulled the stick hard and rolled to the right. As we circled, I got a good look at the Bosche. This Eindecker...it had two guns. I had no time to be astounded - the fight was on.

[Linked Image]

We circled around furiously, battling to get on the other’s tail. Slowly, the Eindecker came into my sights, but before I could fire he looped away and under me. I looked up for the second Eindecker - and could have leapt for joy! Driving off the second Bosche was Thenault’s flight! They must have only just arrived! Reinvigorated, I chased my Bosche downward. He was just as skilled as my previous adversary, and like wild dogs we rolled around each other. Finally he attempted to zoom up above me, but he had mistimed the manoeuvre. I fired a long burst into him, and the machine hung in the air for a moment, before falling backwards and spinning to its demise. Out towards the lines, I saw Thenault’s flight busying itself with the other Eindecker.

[Linked Image]

I realised I must be almost out of bullets, and so I checked my map for a nearby aerodrome - the Bosche were lively today, and I so I decided I should land and borrow a drum of ammunition before heading back to Behonne. The closest aerodrome was Brocourt-en-Argonne. As I arrived, I saw that two Caudrons and a Nieuport were being attended to by raincoat-clad mechanics at the end of the aerodrome. I realised that they, too, must be seeking shelter at the aerodrome. The air fighting today must have been truly terrific, I thought, as I circled down to join them. Immediately as I landed alongside the Nieuport, I noticed the insignia on its side - a greek archer. It was an Escadrille 31 machine! After briefly greeting a mechanic and explaining my situation, I headed to the mess for a cup of coffee. Inside, I saw a familiar face, slouched deeply into an armchair by the fire. “Lemoine!” I called, and the pilot turned to face me.

Sacre! Fullard! You’re not dead yet?” Lemoine cried, and jumped out of his seat. With a grin, I firmly shook his hand.

“How the hell have you been, Lemoine?”
“Miserable! We've run out of Pinard and the sky is packed full of Bosches. Like flies, they were, today!”
“Hm. Yes, I had a couple close shaves. Got two of those damned eindeckers, though! You might not believe me, but I swear that one of them was carrying two guns”.
“They can carry as many guns as they like, so long as they aren’t flying Rolands! I only just managed to get away from one of those brutes, which is how I got here”.

We settled down into a pair of armchairs, as an orderly brought me my coffee. “So, how are the boys at the Escadrille?” I asked Lemoine. He shrugged. “Still a gang of bastards. Little Devienne’s in the hospital at the moment. He finally got his Bosche, and he’s got the scar to prove it! A bullet through the shoulder, from an Aviatik. Ortoli and Jensen are the same as they ever were. We don’t hear much about Jean, past what they say about him in the papers. Seems that our stars have all gone to different Escadrilles. Speaking of, how is life with the Americans? Did you meet up with your brother in the end?”. My expression turned cold. “Yes, but he was killed shortly after I arrived”. Lemoine sighed deeply. “Sorry, mon ami. Hell with this war” he muttered. I managed a smile. “Well. C’est la Guerre, right?. He smiled sympathetically, but stayed quiet. I finished my coffee and rose to my feet. “Well. I must be off. No doubt the boys will be wondering where I’ve gotten to. It was good to see you, Lemoine”.

“You too, Fullard. Take care of yourself”.


Everybody had a different account when I returned to Behonne. De Laage and Prince had managed to stay together, and had shot down another Eindecker after our first encounter. Thenault’s flight chased their Eindecker down low, but the crafty German escaped them. While looking for the rest of us, Blanchon had a very close call when he was attacked by a Roland. Fortunately, Bert Hall stumbled upon the fight and drove the Roland away, chasing him far into enemy lines before coming home.

All in all, we had downed four Eindeckers. However, to our outrage, we learned that the Poillus hadn’t seen a single one fall, owing to the poor weather.


July 9th, 1916 (Pt. 1)

On the 9th, McConnell, Luf, Thaw and I headed to the aerodrome early. As usual, Luf intended to work on maintaining his machine before the day’s patrols were underway. Thenault and De Laage were already at Behonne when we arrived, and so we joined them in deck-chairs, lounging in the sparse rays of sun. “How come you two are out so early?” asked Thaw, to which De Laage explained that a friend was coming to stay with us for a while. I was pondering what this meant, who our guest would be, when from the North the drone of an engine faded into my hearing. I scanned the skies and saw a speck, slowly growing larger and assuming the shape of a Nieuport, which then circled our aerodrome, came down in a terrifyingly sharp dive, and curved in one easy motion into an impressively smooth landing. As the machine rolled to a stop I noticed its macabre emblem, painted in stark black on its fuselage sides. A heart, in which was a skull and crossbones and a coffin. As the pilot, dressed in a thick brown-grey fur coat, stepped down from the machine, he waved to us and broke into a grin. In his mouth, yellow flashed from gold teeth. Swaggering over to us, as one might swagger through a casino after an evening of good fortune, he removed his flying gear to reveal his sharply slicked back hair, the medals gleaming on his chest. His face was something of a contradiction - dangerously handsome, heavily scarred. He reminded me of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. He was all of its characters rolled into one.

Of course, we all immediately recognised him, even before he had removed his flying gear. It was Charles Nungesser, the ace of 10 victories, a rising star among the French - civilian and soldier alike. He placed a hand on Thenault’s shoulder. “Good to see you, mon ami! And you too, De Laage. Can a friend convince you to part with a cigarette?”. Laughing, de Laage fulfilled the request. “Good flight over?” he asked. Nungesser nodded. “Mais oui, not the worst weather today. I saw a Bosche machine in the distance and turned to give chase, but the crafty fellow was halfway back to Berlin the moment I turned towards him”. He winked at us. “But, you must introduce me to some of your men, Georges!”.

We all stood up, and one by one he shook our hands. “Billy! How are you?” he asked Thaw, and the two exchanged brief formalities. It seemed they had met before. “Lufbery, oui? Thenault has told me about you. I hear you are a lion in the air! I look forwards to hunting alongside you”.

He came to me, eyeing me up and down with a curious interest. With a golden smirk, he extended his hand to me. “Ahhh. James Fullard, I take it? The ace of Escadrille 124! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! Thenault has told me about you as well. Jean Chaput, too, in fact. You two flew together, yes?”. I shook his hand. “No, the pleasure is all mines. I flew with Jean in N.31, he’s a good friend. But, never mind me, I’ve very much enjoyed reading of your exploits in the air”. He laughed aloud. “Exploits? Is that what they call them? Mon Ami, I simply knock down the Bosche like I’m told to! On the ground, that’s the place for exploits. Speaking of, let’s head into town tonight. I’ll treat you, my gracious hosts, to dinner”.

Nungesser’s confidence was infectious. It was as if the morale we’d lost with our recent casualties was erased in an instant. By any means, as we prepared to receive our orders for the day, there was a fresh fire in our eyes.

Last edited by Wulfe; 07/10/19 01:18 PM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4482321 - 07/10/19 11:00 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
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Wulfe, finally some news of the boys at Esc. 31! Lemoine is his usual self, as always and look at that, Little Devienne finally has his kill. That scar will definitely increase his chances with the ladies.
Too bad about the denied claims/system crash. Take comfort in the fact that Fullard can mix it up with the best of the Boches and come up on top.
Well, well. First Voscadeaux, now Nungesser. James appears to get around, don’t he? What’s next? A duel with von Richthofen? Great stuff, can’t wait to read about that “dinner”. I wonder who’ll come back with a broken nose? To be continued ...
As for Gaston and the big 50. At the current rate of confirmed claims ... it may take a while.


10 July, 1916 06:40 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
48 confirmed kills

The ‘B’ flight was in luck when they ran into a solitary Roland near Courcelette. He appeared to be going on the offensive, but soon changed his mind and decided to run instead. Gaston was on his tail instantly and a vicious dogfight ensued. Voscadeaux nearly had him, when he noticed an Eindecker creeping up on his rear. Gaston was forced to abandon his attack and pick a new fight. He knew he only had a few rounds left and his fire was more to ward off his adversary rather than destroy. The E.IV was on the ropes and as Gaston predicted, his ammo has ran out. Voscadeaux disengaged hoping that would give the Boche incentive to leave, but instead the Fokker pilot was emboldened and came after Violette. The French pilot immediately turned into the Hun to let him know he will allow no such thing. This time the German understood and turned for his lines. Gaston finally was able to return home. No claims were made.



10 July, 1916 14:40 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
48 confirmed kills

Patrol over enemy airfield of Athies. The sky was overcast and Voscadeaux was not amused with the Rain Gods. As he was taking off he raised his eyes towards the sky to display his displeasure when two Fokkers came into view, diving on the French formation. Gaston changed his course and begun to circle with the enemy. He saw the pair trying to get on his tail and he barely avoided smashing into the airfield after a mild stall. The N16 was clawing at the air to get away from the ground. Higher and higher, foot by foot. One of the Boches fired at him, but the deflection shot was unsuccessful and the rounds went by harmlessly. Voscadeaux was more lucky and when he fired his gun, the bullets must have found its mark, because the monoplane broke off and started to gain height in the eastern direction, away from Cachy. Gaston followed, making sure the other Fokker is preoccupied with the rest of the Nieuports. He knew it was the E.IV with the more powerful engine, but his mount was no slouch either. They punched through the cloud layer. It took a while to catch up, but he was in range when they passed the Villers-Bretoneux factories. He aimed and fired. Round after round hit the Eindecker and eventually one of his bullets found the back of the German pilot. He slumped in the cockpit with his right arm dangling out of the cockpit limply as if to point where he wanted to go. The stricken machine obeyed the command and dipped its starboard wing, spun and hit the ground below. Gaston observed the Fokker's ultimate dance from above and when he saw the dust cloud below turned his plane to continue with the mission. He would have to complete it by himself. There was no sign of his flight anywhere. He could see the dirty smudge of No-Man's Land now. He kept searching the skies for his wingmen. He was sure they were close by. Somewhere. Instead he noticed something else. It was another E.IV returning from the raid. Gaston didn't waste any time. He was on him and firing within a minute. The Fokker dove to avoid Gaston's fire. Voscadeaux watched the Hun's every move and dove on him again, inflicting more damage as he fired. The Boche dove once again and Gaston repeated his attack one more time. This time he continued to fire until he ran out of ammunition. They were close to the ground and Voscadeaux followed the flight path of his crippled opponent. The Boche glided over the French trenches and set down right in front of them, practically gift-wrapped for Les Poilous. The German had no choice, he disembarked and came out with his hands up. Gaston barrel rolled his plane and turned back to Cachy. Boillot and de Geuser have also claimed one Fokker each. The rain continued to come down.



"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."
#4482337 - 07/11/19 12:46 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
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Raine Offline
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I've been away and haven't been able to catch up on everyone's stories yet. Here is a bit to continue Collins's tale in the meantime.


An Airman’s Odyssey – by Lt James Arthur Collins, MC

Part Forty-Nine: In which the great attack begins


We were gathered in the spare shed. The shadows of the poplar leaves played over the canvas roof and the smell of dope and petrol and castor oil clung to us all. “You may smoke if you wish,” the General said. Smoking was normally forbidden in the Bessoneaux. After much fussing with pipes and matches, he began. “As you have no doubt deduced, there is a major push in the offing. Tomorrow morning, the Third and Fourth Armies, and the French on our right, will hit the enemy on both sides of the Albert-Bapaume road. The preparations that have gone into this attack are without parallel. More firepower, more planning, more men, more aircraft – more of everything than in any previous battle in our long history. You gentlemen of No. 3 Squadron have played a major role registering the guns on their targets, photographing the trenches, harassing the rear areas, and the other – the contact patrols. Well done, all of you. Well done, Major.”

Major Harvey-Kelly stood off to the side and gave a perfunctory, manly nod. “You’ll have much to do tomorrow and in the days to come. I am sure you’ll do your bit with all the...all the...oomph you can give. Any questions?”

We all knew better than to raise our hand. Except Sergeant Wilson, standing behind the two rows of folding chairs occupied by the officers.

“Yes, that sergeant. What is your name, sergeant?”

“Sergeant Wilson, surr.” The Major mentioned sotto voce that he was an observer and the General looked pleased.

“And your question?”

“Aye. Ah’m wunnering who yon oriental gentlemen across the road are?” Except Wilson did not use the term “oriental gentlemen.” The General seemed a bit flustered, and Captain Baring stepped in to answer for him.

“They are Pathans – hill men from the northwest frontier of India. The most wonderful horsemen. But mind your manners. They’ll slit your throat for honour. I daresay the Hun will have a grim time with that lot.” I’d already walked over to admire their camp and the great skill they – the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade – showed in their manoeuvres. The surrounding countryside was awash with our second-line forces ready for the push.

General Trenchard did not stay for tea. He, Baring, and two young staff captains climbed into their Rolls and were off minutes later. I did, however, have a moment to thank Captain Baring for his assistance in finding how my mother had contrived to have me sent home from France prematurely. I watched from a respectful distance as the Disciplinary Sergeant-Major gave poor Wilson a terrible dressing-down.

It rained a little that evening and then cleared. The terrible drumroll to the east continued. I retired early and was awakened at five with a tea and a biscuit. The first patrol was with Lewis and Whistler. We headed to the northern part of the attack sector, south of Miraumont on the Ancre River. Orders were to steer clear of La Boisselle until after a pair of mines would detonate. Over Hamel, the three Moranes split up, each to conduct contact patrols over a different part of the front. Around six-thirty the gunfire intensified. It became impossible to make out details on the ground from 3000 feet up. I watched Lewis’s machine in the distance heading south along the valley. A sudden movement caught my eye. The earth convulsed and spewed upward like a long brown pinecone erupting from the landscape, and then it fell apart, spreading outward as it fell. The plume of earth rose until it was at eye level. Then a second eruption mounted skyward, slightly less huge and a little to the west of the first. I was a good five miles north, but the shock waves nearly pulled the stick from my hand as they threw our little Parasol about. I hoped Lewis was well away from it.

We dropped down to a thousand feet and sounded our klaxon, but no flares were visible. The contact patrol concept was no bon. In the end we had to fly over the Hunnish trenches at five hundred feet and try to distinguish muddy grey uniforms from muddy khaki ones. Our own shells jostled the machine and threatened us with instant destruction. It seemed to me that the barrage had lifted to the second line too soon, and we could make out German soldiers emerging from their dugouts and rushing to man what was left of their trenches. After two hours, we climbed away with great relief and headed home.
The rest of the day saw two more contact patrols, neither of which worked as we had practised so carefully. The entire push north of the Bapaume road seemed to be bogged down.

[Linked Image]
"In the end we had to fly over the Hunnish trenches at five hundred feet and try to distinguish muddy grey uniforms from muddy khaki ones."

The next day was glorious – a clear sky and a warm sun. At dawn we attacked a Hun airfield south of the main battle area and were attacked by three Fokkers. Our escort, a single Bristol scout, put up a stout defence as we fought the westerly wind homeward. As we finally crossed our lines I noticed the little Bristol far below. He was scrambling for home with a persistent Fokker on his tail. I dropped our Morane down three thousand feet and drew alongside the Hun. Wilson let him have several bursts and he immediately gave up his pursuit and stormed off eastward.

Two more patrols followed that day, reconnaissance and contact patrol duties. There were no air Huns about. It seemed that things had gone better to the south of the road towards Montauban.

The craters from the Boisselle mines were visible for miles, the white chalk standing out from the grass and mud. A little farther north there was another large white circle north of Beaumont-Hamel.

3 July was a repeat performance, with much low work and risky business, but no HA about at all. And then the rains came.

On the 4th I visited the Indian cavalry and brought Jericho’s horse, Moon. Their risaldar-major was an imposing character named Dil Mohamed. He expressed interest and I told him the story of how Jericho had won over the animal and how I needed to sell him to give money to his fiancée, but I did not want to see him mishandled. I expressed my admiration for the way I’d seen him ride and asked if he might be interested in acquiring Moon.

Dil Mohamed took Moon’s long face in his hands and looked into his eyes. Then he placed his forehead against the horse’s. He took the bridle and said something in his own language. Moon followed him across the field. Dil examined the saddle and made several adjustments, and with one sudden and smooth move mounted Moon. He rode off at a gallop across the fields and out of sight. Several of the Pathans laughed as I stood alone, wondering if I’d see Jericho’s horse again. It was a full ten minutes before Dil returned.

“It is a very good horse. It is worth £95, but I will pay £75. No more. This will be my horse, not the King’s horse. It will be taken care of as your friend would take care of it.”

I agreed on the spot. It made me somewhat nervous to accept Dil Mohamed’s cheque, but I remembered what Baring had said about Pathan honour. To some degree it made me willing to trust this man, and to some degree it made me think the better of doubting him.

We were still grounded on the 5th by driving rain and winds, and I got permission to take a motorcycle into Amiens. I cashed the cheque without difficulty and, using a note I’d found in Jericho’s Bible, traced Camille down to a boarding house. It was a heart-rending hour, but I left her with nearly three thousand francs, some from the sale of Moon, some from Jericho’s pockets, and some from me. She said she would think about buying a little cafe, and I pressed her to get away from this part of France, away from anyone who knew her here, and start afresh. She cried a great deal and promised she would. I hoped she meant it.

Attached Files The push day one.jpg
#4482461 - 07/11/19 11:57 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine, your stories always have a closure. Collins is so thoughtful and takes care of all the business. Moon and Camille are just two examples. Jericho had a great friend. Now, to take care of the great friend himself. Fly along a Fokker? In a Parasol? Who's got balls of titanium? I think this may not be such a good idea once the two-gun Fokkers show up. That should be right about … now!


11 July, 1916 04:15 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills

Both Fokkers from yesterday's airfield raid have been confirmed. Gaston now stands at an even fifty. Gaston was back with Violette once again. The wing was still not painted as there were more important matters for the mechanics to attend to. He didn't mind. What's another day?

Boillot saw him first as they were finishing off their patrol west of Bapaume. He signalled to Gaston that there was a Boche following them. Voscadeaux brought his crate around to face the foe. He was being blinded by the brilliant sun. The two advertisers circled each other with Gaston gaining the upper hand and latching onto the Fokker’s tail. He aimed carefully and fired. Good, solid hits on the fuselage and the wings. The Hun dove and Gaston followed. He was on his tail and calmly taking the aim again when all of a sudden shots rang out just behind him. It was Boillot impatient with Voscadeaux’s pussyfooting. The Eindecker shuddered and went into a death spin. There was no coming back from this, but Boillot followed just to make sure. He snatched the victory right from under Gaston’s nose. To be honest, it was Boillot’s kill to begin with. He saw him first.

[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]



11 July, 1916 12:15 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills

The second flight of the day was uneventful - line patrol east of Albert. Heavy clouds limited the ability to scan the skies around and the constant ducking in and out of clouds compounded the frustrations. There was nothing to be seen.

Attached Files 1916-07-11 AM1.jpg1916-07-11 AM2.jpg1916-07-11 AM3.jpg1916-07-11 AM4.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."
#4482476 - 07/12/19 01:48 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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almost back but not getting any sound. I may have blown a port

#4482579 - 07/12/19 09:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, keep the faith!

12 July, 1916 06:20 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills

Violette is finally back to her old self. All green and brown on top and all purple below. All pig of a plane.
The brass decided to let the ‘B’ flight do some balloon hunting. There was one in particular, east of Albert that needed to be swatted. Gaston hit the balloon first but in the end he needed some extra help. Caporal Tsu claimed the gasbag.

12 July, 1916 14:05 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills

In the afternoon the ‘B’ flight was lucky enough to be selected for escort duty of a British B.E.2c from RFC-15 who was tasked with dropping his bombs on enemy troop camp positions near Champien. More clouds rolled in and this time with ground fog developing for good measure. Following landmarks would be near impossible. Luckily for the ‘B’ flight all that they needed to do was to find their two-seater and follow him along. Easier said than done. Finding part was easy. It’s the following bit that proved to be tricky. The British machine was so slow that the Nieuports were constantly dropping out of formation just to stay afloat. During one of those maneuvers de Geuser and Tsu touched wings and had to return back to base with damage. This made Voscadeaux nervous every time he had to swing to port where his remaining wingman, Garrigou was flying. They both had to be careful to stay with the Quirk and not collide. On top of that they had to keep an eye for the Fokkers, which could jump out of any of the clouds at any given moment. Finally, the B.E.2 reached the target area, dropped his load and quickly turned back, but something was wrong. They were not following their preplanned route. The Quirk had to land at La Cesne, an aerodrome way out of the way. Gaston was furious for this detour, but what could he do? He was ordered to escort and escort he shall. But now they were released and could finally head for home. Gaston will need an additional dose of le pinard to calm his nerves.


"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."
#4482633 - 07/13/19 09:09 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2018
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Wulfe Offline
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Wulfe  Offline
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CONGRATULATIONS, Fullofit, on hitting the big 50! And by mid-1916, no less! Astounding.

Adj. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N.124 'Americaine',
Bar-le-Duc, France.


July 10th, 1916.


As promised, Nungesser treated us to dinner at a quaint little Cafe in Bar-le-Duc, regaling us for the evening with incredible stories of his battles in the air. The man sounded like a legendary swashbuckler, raiding formations of three, four, five Germans by himself. However, we were not the undivided object of his attention - and in the morning the poor Orderly had to interrogate two young Mademoiselles as to how to return them home from our Villa. Or, at least, so I heard from Rockwell. Prince, Luf, Blanchon, McConnell and I had already since departed on the dawn patrol over enemy lines by that point.

The sky had only just started to lighten as we lifted, bound for St. Mihiel, and the morning was bitterly cold. For the third day now, rain battered at our faces and stung our cheeks. How I envied Nungesser as we flew, cozied up in bed with his two young acquaintances! But, I reasoned, somebody had to be up fighting the air war. As we crossed into the pocket in the lines at St. Mihiel, the clouds closed up and swallowed us. I watched anxiously as Prince, Luf and McConnell disappeared behind a film of white ahead of me. When we broke through the other side, we were above the German rear trenches. Near the Lac de Madine some unpleasantly accurate AA fire added to our woes, but it quickly relented. I imagined the Germans below were no more pleased about having to work today than we were.

After ten or so minutes of flying Westward, we turned back East to the beginning of our patrol route. What good is this? I bitterly thought, No Bosches are going to be up at 5 O’Clock in this weather!. We made this gruelling back-and-forth trip a further two times. Suddenly, on our third rotation, our formation abruptly scattered every which-way. Bosches. I circled too, frantically searching the murky grey clouds for our agitators. Luf lifted his nose up, standing on his tail and firing upwards. I followed the line of his tracers and discovered three Fokkers, swooping down upon us. We quickly climbed up to them, and I got behind one German who seemed to be a rookie. His movements in the air were unsure, and I had a good shot at him, but the wind was treacherous and knocked my aim off. The startled German dove sharply away, and I followed, chasing him low and firing as he swept down desperately for Thiaucourt aerodrome. Eventually I decided I had gotten too far down, and let the young rookie go. Circling back to the location of the fight, I only saw two other machines - a Nieuport and a Fokker, locked in a tense dogfight. It was McConnell - and the German had the upper hand. I fired a burst across the Eindecker’s front - it was another twin-gunned variant - at which point he simply zoomed up in a spiral climb away from us. I watched in awe as the German machine soared upwards. What was this new Eindecker?!

I couldn’t catch him, but McConnell’s Nieuport 16 strained upwards, and soon the Bosche was, too, diving for Thiaucourt. As he descended low he looped under McConnell and straightened out to land, apparently assuming we’d given up. I saw my chance. Diving down I fired the last of my ammunition into the German, his horrified face spinning around to face me before his machine buckled and fell into a spin. Quickly I curved away, not waiting to see if McConnell had witnessed the victory, and opened the throttle full towards home.

Blanchon had brought down one of the Germans, as seen by Lufbery. Unfortunately for me, McConnell hadn’t seen my Fokker go down, and so I added another tally to my string of unconfirmed victories.

Last edited by Wulfe; 07/13/19 09:13 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4482731 - 07/13/19 11:06 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
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Fullofit  Online Content
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Thanks Wulfe, I think 1/10th of this value would be a more realistic number. This will become much more difficult when the Albatros shows up.
Now, Fullard is keeping the Huns honest. Too bad about another unconfirmed victory, but a victory nonetheless. One less Boche to worry about.

13 July, 1916 05:50 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills

The overcast skies seemed to press down on the land beneath it, but Gaston knew they only needed to rise above this low level cover and the view would improve. He wasn’t wrong. For some unknown reason the HQ decided to go easy on Escadrille 37 this morning. They were assigned to patrol above Villers-Bretonneux airfield. The airfield was practically next door to Cachy. They could have walked there. No need to waste time with long transit flights. As usual, the ‘A’ flight raced ahead. Voscadeaux was sure the 22 minutes will pass quickly and they’ll be back for second breakfast in no time at all. That was when he noticed one of the boys from the ‘A’ flight passing them and going in the opposite direction. “- Must be a wonky engine.” Gaston thought to himself, but then he understood the real reason for the pilot leaving the formation. The other two of his flight-mates were engaged in a twisting fight with a Walfisch. The sky-blue plane was rolling and diving with the best of them. The anti-aérienne was throwing up in the air everything they’ve got just to make it more interesting. Another of the Nieuports disengaged. Voscadeaux observed from above the last of the French scouts attack the German machine. Gaston and his wingmen were close now. He was waiting for the sign. The Nieuport below peeled off. That was the sign. Voscadeaux put Violette in a dive and placed the Boche just above where the flying wires were intersecting in front of his windscreen. He squeezed the trigger and the Belgian rattlesnake spat bursts of venom from its barrel. Gaston immediately banked to port to avoid a collision. The next time he saw the Hun crate it was on fire, dragging a long plume of black smoke. The gunner however was far from giving up. Voscadeaux could see the muzzle flashes from within the thick smoke. The Parabellum was firing blindly and then it was all over. The blue plane nosed down and impaled itself into the field below.



The ‘B’ flight returned to the patrol area just west of the smoking crater. They still had 9 minutes to go. The time passed quickly and Gaston was now following the rest of his flight in a landing pattern. Final scan of the skies before getting ready to put his plane down. Blue skies. Puffy, white clouds. Archie pale bursts. Yellow monoplanes. It was a pair of Fokkers looking for the Roland they’ve been charged with escorting. Instead the Walfisch they’ve run into Violette. Two E.IV versus one N16. The Boche were sure the odds were on their side, but it isn’t the machine, but the man behind the controls that ultimately decides who will fly home and who will fall. Obviously they haven’t heard of Capitaine Voscadeaux. The two sides were sizing each other. Gaston - cautiously, the Boches - boldly, sure they can easily protect each other. The circling continued to tighten, Gaston tried to keep both foes in his view. He saw one of them change direction, he was on him in a heartbeat. The Hun was spinning to the ground after Voscadeaux sent a well aimed burst which cut the control cables. It was one-on-one now and the French Ace could see the Boche was scrambling. There would be no mercy today. The Hun broke off and turned for the front lines at full speed. Gaston smiled, the German was good as dead. He took his time to aim, closed the distance and fired. Round after round ripped into the Fokker. The pilot in desperation put his plane into a spin. Gaston didn’t follow, but watched every move the Hun made. He leveled out and continued his escape, but Voscadeaux was above and quickly closed the distance in a shallow dive. He fired again, more hits, more damage, but apparently not enough to bring the monoplane down. Gaston was annoyed now. He spent the last of his ammunition and finally he could see the Fokker’s propeller come to a stop. The heavy engine pulled the little scout down. The Eindecker wasn’t gliding, it was in a controlled stall. Soon the ground came fast at the Boche. It didn’t float gently down. It didn’t bounce and float down. It smashed into the hill. Its airframe must have been critically damaged. It disintegrated on contact. Gaston turned back and came to a stop at his aerodrome very soon after.



13 July, 1916 13:55 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
50 confirmed kills
Awaiting 3 claim confirmations

The afternoon mission was a waste of time. The line patrol near Cappy proved to be uneventful with absolutely atrocious weather. Heavy, dark grey clouds saturated with precipitation dominated the local sky.


"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."
#4482825 - 07/14/19 11:18 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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14 July, 1916 04:55 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
52 confirmed kills

Roland on fire and the second Fokker have been confirmed, but the first Eindecker has been credited to the artillery crew. Two out of three isn’t bad at all. Gaston was ready to have all his claims rejected.
This morning ‘B’ flight was tasked with escorting a Caudron from Esc 11 to bomb enemy troop camp south of Marchélepot. The weather improved tenfold. It was a pleasure to go up. They’ve met with the French bomber and were on their way when one of the Caudron’s engines sputtered and begun emitting smoke. The pilot turned around his machine right away and set course for Cachy. Gaston and company escorted the wounded beast all the way home.

[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]

14 July, 1916 12:30 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
52 confirmed kills

This afternoon orders came from above to attack the balloon near Péronne. They never even came close to the gasbag. Bah! They never even came close to the front lines. Right after take off and before the initial waypoint the flight noticed Archie going off close by. Gaston spotted a Roland attacking some unfortunate camp. He aimed right for the intruder. He was aware more shrapnel was going off in different directions. There had to be more than one. There it is! He just screamed above Voscadeaux’s head. Gaston was gritting his teeth. “- One is a party, two ... well, I don’t know. Let’s find out!” He was determined to bring at least one down. He fired wildly at the weaving machine. It had a typical powder-blue paint job but with a red stripe along the fuselage. Gaston wondered if this meant anything. Was he some cocky Scheißkerl? Voscadeaux didn’t like Scheißkerle, especially cocky ones. He fired without any intent to conserve his ammunition. The Walfisch twisted and squirmed low to the ground. Gaston nearly smashed into the ground after Violette stalled without warning. He nearly rammed the Roland, which suddenly slowed down without warning. And finally he nearly pushed his gun’s trigger through its stops when he run out of ammo without warning. He watched as the Boche two-seater was about to escape when it hit the ground without warning. Gaston exhaled. He didn’t know how long he held his breath. Just a second? A minute? Since the beginning of the engagement? He saw a speck in the sky moving in his direction. It had to be one of the other Nieuports returning after chasing off the other Roland. Then Archie exploded near him and another one followed right after. Gaston was in trouble. No ammunition and a Walfisch on his tail could only spell disaster. Then he saw another dot following the Hun. This one was certainly one of his! He saw him fire at the Boche and then break off. The German machine continued straight for a few more seconds and suddenly made a curving dive straight for the trees, where it crashed. Voscadeaux was relieved. He followed the other Nieuport to the airfield. Someone has to do something about those Teutonic Whales.


Attached Files 1916-07-14 AM1.jpg1916-07-14 AM2.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."
#4482939 - 07/15/19 07:00 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,934
carrick58 Offline
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Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,934
Keith Cunard Mallory
2nd LT, Rfc
29 Sqn, Ablee AF.
DH-2's
3 Kills


Returned to France after finishing up Officer's Course in England. Found some paint in a open locker on the transport ship so in between rain storms painted it up in the Sqn Hanger then outside for a test

Attached Files CFS3 2019-07-15 11-49-59-27.jpgCFS3 2019-07-15 11-51-36-43.jpgCFS3 2019-07-15 11-51-39-30.jpg
#4482980 - 07/16/19 01:17 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,325
Fullofit Online content
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Ajax, ON
Carrick, I think you'll have to repaint every time you get a kill.


15 July, 1916 04:50 morning mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
52 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

Despite this being a simple affair, yesterday’s Roland was still not being confirmed. Seems local anti-aircraft battery was also claiming Gaston’s kill. This will need more time before it gets cleared up. Gaston finally was assigned a new wingman. Sergent Leblanc Berneart didn’t seem too bright, but maybe that’s what Gaston needs right now. Someone who’ll follow him and listen to his commands, like an obedient dog. He met the man earlier this morning. Him and a dozen of his children. The man carries an entire photo album of his family everywhere he goes. He says it brings him peace. When Gaston thinks of his two daughters, peace isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.
Gaston’s flight was tasked today with escorting 2 Caudrons from Esc 11 on recon flight over enemy front lines north of Péronne. As they were flying over the pockmarked ground of No-Man’s Land, Voscadeaux spotted some Rolands flying low, but he wasn’t in the mood to mix it up with them. They continued unmolested. Later he noticed a lone Fokker. He followed and mixed it up with that one. The Boche pilot was a skilled flier. He tried to drag Gaston over the trenches by flying low, but Gaston didn’t take the bait. He flew further away from the front lines and waited for the Hun to turn back for home. Finally they were out of range of the ground fire. Gaston followed his target as he climbed to altitude. When he at last came in range, Voscadeaux hit and damaged the Eindecker and then watched as the prop windmilled to a stop. The Hun was desperately trying to reach the safety of a dense cloud. The moment he reached that cloud one of Gaston’s wingmen followed him in. The Fokker came out the other end up side down and crashed below.



Gaston was alone now and on his way home, but noticed two more monoplanes flying low over the NML. Voscadeaux decided to follow them. Deeper and deeper into La Bochie. He stalked them until they were ready to land and that’s when Gaston attacked. First, the trailing Fokker was peppered with bullets and diving for safety. Then the leader received similar treatment. A pale trail of smoke followed the Boche machine down, but Gaston didn’t have time to admire his handiwork. The first Fokker was back, apparently not damaged as much as Gaston thought. Few more turns and this one started to smoke as well. Gaston couldn’t finish the job, his Lewis was empty, but there was no need. The Eindecker made sweeping dive down and nearly hit the trees. Too bad Voscadeaux had no witnesses. He saw the leader make a forced landing at Athies.



Gaston was back on his way and just in time. A few kilometres away from the aerodrome his engine spluttered oil all over his wind screen. He was gliding the rest of the way home trying to wipe the grime off the glass. He touched down right in the middle of the airfield.


15 July, 1916 13:00 afternoon mission
Cachy, Flanders Sector
Escadrille N37
Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux
52 confirmed kills
Awaiting 2 claim confirmations

This was ‘B’ flight only show. It was time to harass some German aeroplanes over their own field. Bertincourt was chosen for the target. As soon as they’ve arrived over the Boche aerodrome they spotted two aeroplanes coming towards them. Gaston squinted to see what they were and smiled to himself. “- Looks like Whale meat isn’t on the menu today.” He was referring to the pair of Aviatiks coming their way. It was easy prey. Voscadeaux performed his usual trick. He would fly ahead of the formation as if he were the only one attacking. The gunners of each plane would concentrate on him and ignore the rest of the flight. At the last moment he would abandon his attack and swing around the two-seaters, still keeping their attention. Meanwhile the rest of ‘B’ flight would pick apart the distracted Huns. Once the first wave would be over, Gaston would join and usually finish off one of the wounded planes. It was no different this time. After Gaston’s third pass the lumbering bomber was spiraling down. When both machines were taken care off, Gaston led the flight back home.



"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."
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