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#4449449 - 11/19/18 02:16 PM Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)  
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Deep Immersion DiD Campaign -- Player Instructions

(With thanks for the inspiration to Olham and CatKnight, creators of our previous DiD campaigns)

The coming of war seemed an invitation to adventure, glory, honours. Or perhaps it was an escape from the slum, from the farm, from unemployment, or simply from boredom. By late 1915, however, war had become an all-devouring beast that made cripples of men and widows of women. Casualty lists spilled over the pages of the daily newspapers. Bombs tore up parks and tenements. Chlorine and phosgene clouds spread their greenish tentacles over the land. Trenches were dug deeper. And always there was the hammer of the guns.

Still, there was another kind of war being fought high above the mud. It was a war where death seldom came from chance shell fired from miles away, where skill and courage made a difference. Up there, you could see your enemy. Better yet, at day's end there was a real bed and hot food. So for you, it is time to ignore the fellows who swear they’d never be caught in one of those damned flying machines. Forget your mates talking about falling in flames. Those things happen to others.



Introduction:

The Deep Immersion Campaign is a chance to follow your pilot day by day through the war and share his story with the rest of the WOFF community. It is a DiD (dead is dead) campaign, meaning that if your man is killed you will have to start again with another pilot. If you’re using Robert Wiggins’s splendid “User Files Backup Program, you may revive your pilot only if you lose him to an accident not related to flying in the sim (e.g. a home emergency pulls you from the sim without properly pausing, a power failure occurs when you are over enemy lines, the cat eats your joystick cable while you are flying, etc.).



The hand of fate

The campaign moderator (CM) will play the role of Fate and will, in accordance with historical plausibility:

• assign each player to an operational squadron;
• initiate transfers;
• award medals, which will be conferred by RAF_Louvert (AKA “The Gong Fairy”) in the campaign thread; and
• initiate long leaves, such as home leave, transfer to training units, etc.

The campaign moderator (CM) will do his best to be fair and balance any bad luck with good, so that you won’t always be flying an inferior aircraft. But, as would happen in real life, you might not always be flying your favourite machine and you're sure to have new experiences in WOFF. The Deep Immersion Campaign may see you fly in machines you’ve never spent much time in before, or in unfamiliar sectors of the front.


Enlistment date:

You may fly training missions starting on 1 December 2018 (which in the campaign will be 1 December 1915). Your training missions will use the Quick Combat “free flight” feature and must be flown in accordance with the instructions below.

The operational phase of the campaign will begin on or after 1 January 2019, which in game terms will be 1 January 1916. From that point on, your 2019 dates will equate to the same date in 1916, and so on until war’s end. If you fall behind due to real life pressures, you may fly additional missions to catch up, but please try not to get too far out of sync. If you need to take some time off, please send a message to the CM and we'll invent a story for your narrative to explain your absence



Enlistment name:

Each pilot is to be given a first, middle, and last name. To avoid repeating the same old names as our previous campaigns, your first pilot’s MIDDLE name should begin with A, your second pilot’s MIDDLE name with B, and so forth.

You may fly one pilot at a time, and when he’s dead he stays dead. You may begin a new career with a new pilot on the following day. As a option, you may wish your new pilot to be the same nationality as the pilot who shot you down.


Enlistment ranks:

Use manual enlistment and choose your pilot’s name, nationality, birth date, place of birth, and the assigned squadron for operational deployment.

If you wish to start as an NCO pilot (common for Germany and France, less common for the UK, start as

German Luftstreitkraefte: Feldwebel
German Kaiserliche Marine: Flugmeister
France: Sergeant
RFC: Sergeant
RNAS: N/A.

If you wish to start as an officer, choose the above NCO rank in-game, but in your accounts give yourself junior officer or senior warrant officer rank until promoted in-game, for example:

German Luftstreitkraefte: In game, start as a Feldwebel, but in your written accounts you will remain an Offizierstellvertreter until promoted Leutnant.
German Kaiserliche Marine: In game, start as a Flugmeister, but in your written accounts you will remain Oberflugmeister until promoted Leutnant zur See.
France: In game, start as a Sergeant, but in your written accounts you will remain Sous Lieutenant until promoted Lieutenant.
RFC: In game, start as a Sergeant, but in your written accounts you will remain a 2/Lieutenant until promoted Lieutenant.
RNAS: In both game and accounts, start as a Flight Sub-Lieutenant.


American enlistment:

Americans may enrol into the French Aviation Militaire (fresh from the Foreign Legion) or into the RFC or RNAS (enrolment in Canada – at risk of loss of citizenship due to taking a loyal oath to the Crown). Transfer to the USAS will be an option in early 1918.



Your first posting:

To start the campaign, send a PM to Raine, preferably on or before 24 November 2018, with the name and nationality of your new pilot and a brief biographical sketch. State whether you would like to fly training missions in December or begin your campaign with a posting to the front in January. Also indicate whether you will begin your career as an NCO or junior officer.

Your training missions in December will simulate the final stage of training, when you will begin to fly an operational type.

The CM will send you by return PM details of you first posting, including the aerodrome and aircraft on which you will complete your training missions, your first operational (i.e. non-training) squadron, and your starting rank.

The CM will assign your first pilot to fly two-seaters. Expect that your first assignment will last a while, as quick transfers to single-seat units are not historical.

Later pilots may find that their first squadron is a single-seat unit, especially later in the war, but that’s up to fate (in this case, the CM).


If you are flying training missions...

1. Set your enlistment date for your operational squadron as 1 December 1915.

2. In the Workshop, under “More Settings,” ensure that “Log” is set to “All” and that “Campaign Date Advance” is set to “Manual / Auto.”

3. Let your campaign load and you will see your squadron details for 1 December 1915, or on the first day of flyable weather after it (December 1915 was a very wet month). Go to the Briefing Room to get a campaign mission, but DO NOT FLY THIS MISSION, as it will be an operational mission at the front and you still need to earn your wings. Instead, exit the Campaign screen and go to Quick Combat.

4. In Quick Combat, set the parameters to “Free Flight,” and set the region to your assigned training region (e.g. England, Germany), and set the field to your assigned training aerodrome (e.g. Netheravon, if that is where the CM told you to train). Ensure your initial altitude is set to “Field” so you take off from the ground rather than start in the air. Be sure you choose the assigned type of aircraft for your training flight.

5. In Quick Combat, fly one mission per day if you have overcast conditions, two per day in sunny weather. After the last flight of the day, exit Quick Combat and return to the Campaign screen.

6. In the Campaign screen, find the button reading “T+” and advance the time to the next day. The Campaign will then advance to the next day. Go to briefing room and generate the next campaign mission. Unless flights are cancelled due to weather, it will generate a mission on the next flyable day. DO NOT FLY THIS OPERATIONAL MISSION. Instead, return to Quick Combat and set up your next training mission from your training field. Continue until you have completed all your training missions and have a minimum of 15 hours of flight time. At that time you may deploy to the front, but may not fly from your new squadron until 1 January 1916.



Training missions

(Credit to OldHat and RAF_Louvert for the inspiration here)

Your training will be complete when you have completed the following:

1. TWO missions involving takeoff, climb to 1000 ft / 300 m, and land on your airfield five times. Ensure you leave your engine on when landing. If you damage your machine, you may not fly until the following day.

2. One mission involving a circuit below 3300 ft / 1000 m for 15 minutes within sight of the aerodrome. Do not turn off your engine. Then take off again and fly a circuit for at least 1 to 2 hours a bit farther away but still within sight of the aerodrome and below 6600 ft. / 2000 m.

3. One mission in which you climb to 10000 ft / 3000 m and remain there for at least an hour. Stay within sight of your aerodrome.

4. One mission in which you fly for an hour before landing somewhere other than an aerodrome. Do not turn off your engine and fly back to your aerodrome. Taxi back to your hangar.

5. TWO missions in which you take off and climb to 6600 ft / 2000 m. Cut your engine and glide down to you aerodrome, landing within 50 ft of a selected location.

6. TWO missions in which you practice aerobatics: slips, loops, and spins.

7. One cross-country flight to another airfield about an hour away. Land, keeping the engine on. Then take off and fly home.

8. Same as (7) above, but at night.

9. TWO flights practising strafing and / or bombing a ground target. RAF_Louvert has included ground targets for training at Catterick and Thetford for RFC pilots, so this will include a cross-country flight. RNAS, German, and French pilots should practice on an isolated farm house near the home training airfield.

10. Deploy to the front after 25 December but not fly from your new squadron until 1 January 2019 / 1916.


NOTE: You may prefer to make custom missions using OldHat’s instructions here: [insert link to OldHat's custom mission building series]

Alternatively, you may wish to create these missions using JJJ’s mission builder.

Or Luddites like me can simply fly then in Quick Combat.



Deployment to the front

RFC pilots will deploy from their assigned training airfield in England to St-Omer. RNAS pilots will deploy from their assigned training airfield in England to St-Pol-sur-Mer. They will be deemed to transfer from St-Omer / St-Pol to their squadron by tender before 1 January.

French pilots will complete their training near Paris at La Réserve Générale de l’Aviation at Le Bourget and will deploy in their operational aircraft directly to their squadron on or after 1 January 1916.

German pilots may ferry an operational type to their squadron, or may simply “take the train” there on or after 1 January 1916.


In-game aids

While flying “full real” is preferred, you may use the following three aids if you must.

1. TAC. If used, TAC must be set for surface units only. May not be set for balloons or aircraft or all,

2. F5, and

3. Cntl Z.



Workshop Settings

Campaign date advance: Manual
Weather: Historical
Wind: On
Rain / Snow: On
Campaign Mission Frequency: Historical
Log: Campaign Only
AI Never Backs Down: Off
AI Enhanced Skill Levels: Off
AI Reduced Vision: On
AI Damage Affects Skill: On
Unlimited Fuel and Ammo: Off
Player Flight Position: By Rank
Player Flight Altitude: Historical
Encounters: Realistic
Mission Frequency: Historical
Transfer: Subject to Review
Flight Model: Realistic
Claims: Normal
Promotions: Normal
Outcomes: Normal
Main Guns: Less Accurate
Rear Guns: Less Accurate
Player Guns: Normal
Gun Jams: On
Ground Gun Accuracy: Normal
Invincible: Off
Random Craft Failure: On
Target Range: Historical



Dot Visibility

Fly with labels set to “dots only.” You may briefly go to “Information” labels to check the name of a witness when you down an enemy machine, but must return to dots only afterwards.
In Workshop, set the distance at which dots are visible as follows. This will simulate gradual gain of air vision:

• 3400 m until > 25 hours flown
• 4000 m until > 50 hours flown
• 5000 m for 50+ hours flown


Familiarisation flights

Once at your squadron let the WOFF Campaign Manager schedule you a mission but ignore the directions. Instead, complete two circuits around your home airfield and land. Set all other aircraft in the flight to 5% fuel so you will fly alone.

On your next mission less the WOFF Campaign Manager schedule you a mission, but ignore the directions. Fly to the front and back. Again, if hostile aircraft attempt to engage, disengage and RTB.

On your third and following flights from your home field, follow mission instructions.



Squadron transfers

After 35 hours (including transfer and familiarisation flights) you may, but are not required to, request a transfer to another squadron. Do this by sending a PM to the CM (Raine), detailing your total hours and specifying the desired squadron. The CM will either deny the request (in which case you must wait for 10 more hours of flight time), approve the request, or demand that you transfer to another squadron that you will be assigned.

Once your request is approved, you may request the transfer in-game. Because transfers are set to “Subject to Review” in the Workshop, the game may still refuse your request. Sorry, but higher command sucks...

Once in a new squadron, you may ask for additional transfers, but the longer you wait, the more likely the CM will be to approve the request.

There may come a time (especially if you're playing the French) when your squadron becomes unplayable due to lack of useable aircraft. If that happens, you have three options:

1. Emergency transfer: Your pilot sits for a week (7 days). After that, you may restart him in a new career with any squadron from his country. You'll need to manually track the pilot's combined record.

2. Wait: If this is a problem that will eventually correct itself (such as a squadron switching to a different plane), you can choose to wait it out. Your pilot will simply be inactive until he can play again.

3. Retire: You can retire the character and start a new one.


Long transfers

The CM may assign a pilot to a period away from the front for a period of time. You can also request a break like this if you're going through a busy time in the real world. As CM, I'll simply assign an explanatory story, which you can work into your written accounts. RFC pilots should expect a required period on Home Defence or instructor's duties every few months. I'll PM any special instructions when this happens. If you hate this idea, PM me and we'll work something out.



Flight reports

The essence of the Deep Immersion campaign will be the flight reports. Ideally, we’ll get to know your pilot and read the “ripping good yarns” you will write about him. Please try to breathe life into your character and give us an idea of who he really is. We’ll do our best to keep it historically accurate.



Campaign moderator and flight reports

From time to time, the CM may PM players with plot suggestions, interesting facts, or other ideas for your narratives. You are free to ignore these or use them as you choose. The intent is to add to the unpredictability of the campaign.

Because the game award system is not tremendously historic, the CM will PM players with announcements of awards at appropriate moments.

RAF_Louvert will play higher command. The CM will send him a message recommending a decoration, and he will have to approve before it’s final. At that point, RAF_Louvert will post his wonderful investiture photos and medal art and you may then mention the award in your written accounts.



Pilot stats and information

RAF_Louvert will periodically post a chart (such as the one shown on page 2 of this thread) showing the stats for our pilots.



UPDATE Additional rules (Thanks to Fullofit for the ideas)

Regional air activity - set to medium
Historical mission types - On
Gun sight view F6 is allowed.
Let WOFF assign the number of missions per day. There is no campaign limit.
There is no limit on the number of confirmed victories in a day. There were caps in the former campaigns, but recent versions of UE with historical claims settings are tough enough.
External view not allowed if you have a head tracking system.
The target balloon in a balloon busting mission is the only allowable balloon claim.

Good luck to all!

Raine

#4449465 - 11/19/18 04:38 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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2Lt Cecil Anthony Melchett is very excited to have received his orders. Time to get out of the mud and into the skies!

#4449485 - 11/19/18 06:24 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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To be clear what about mods, which are allowed?

#4449545 - 11/20/18 02:10 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Dutch,

I haven't made any rules about mods, but the idea of this campaign is to be as historically accurate as possible. So mods that focus on adding historic details or ground textures, like Lou and Robert Wiggins's airfields or Olham's rivers mod or Buckeye Bob's cloud mods would be fine. So would JJJ's realistic tracer effects mod be okay, as long as you don't introduce tracer too early (From late 1915 on RNAS Home Defence, April 1916 in general RFC use, and mid 1916 in French and German use, although I am open to correction on this). Mods that don't affect combat like the news mods or ArisFuser's historical aces mod are fine, too. I think the bombsight mods are okay, as would be Robert Wiggin's UI mod.

If your eyesight is going, we'll look the other way if you increase dot size.

I think we should avoid FM mods, though.

#4449554 - 11/20/18 03:04 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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I should have my computer working well by then so put me down For : Nigel Archibald Notting, Sgt , Rfc. A former shoe cobbler from Essex and Bicycle Tinker.

Last edited by carrick58; 11/20/18 03:10 AM.
#4449599 - 11/20/18 10:55 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Well the last DiD guy I did was German so sign me up for the RFC. I'll be 2Lt Percival "Drongo" Drummond. An Australian flying for the RFC who used to work in a bank. Let's say he loathed working in a bank so much that he took a revolver to work one day, shot the clock off the wall and announced to the stunned staff "Bugger this for a joke, I quit". He then spent his accumulated savings on passage to England and flying lessons. He's 23 years old, hot tempered and fond of a little tipple every now and then.

(Any WW2 scholars here might recognise part of his back story / character from an actual historical figure)


Let's pretend I got the BWOC badge to embed here.

Wenn ihr sieg im deine Kampf selbst gegen, wirst schwer wie stahl sein.
#4449611 - 11/20/18 12:18 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Do you want this thread stickied Raine?


Regards,

Polovski,
OBD Software, developers of immersive flight sims;
Wings Over Flanders Fields and Wings Over The Reich
http://www.overflandersfields.com
http://www.wingsoverthereich.com
#4449613 - 11/20/18 12:54 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Pol,

That would be appreciated. Thanks!

#4449693 - 11/20/18 08:35 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Nice one Raine! I've been away from WOFF for sometime and was just thinking about making a return... this will be perfect, thank you! PM to follow..

H

#4449701 - 11/20/18 09:34 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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I'm in! Pilot profile PM'd.

This will be a great way to spend hours on those cold winter days when I don't feel like venturing out of the house.

#4449708 - 11/20/18 10:50 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Very complex for an old Geezers of 81. I will do my best!


Origin made- silverstone case,ASUS Max VI Extreme , CPU intel Core i7 4770k, cooling asotex 570LC, NVIDA 3G GTX 780 Ti , Mem 16GB Kingston Hyper X DDR3 ,game drive 120GB INTEL X25 SS, OS drive 1TB, Win 7 home Prem.Logitech G105 key board,BenQ XL2430 Gaming Monitor.
All pilots owe me a beer. Retired USAF Rescue/Survival, Special Forces, and MI (after I got old and grey).
#4449710 - 11/20/18 10:52 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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I would not miss this for anything! Really looking forward to it. Pilot has been sent up the channels to see where he will live his short life.


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!
#4450262 - 11/23/18 11:42 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Looking forwards to it...will PM when I get the chance wink

Edit: May be the 25th when I get the news sent...been a bit busy in that silly thing called the 'real world' lately...

Last edited by Wulfe; 11/23/18 11:48 PM.
#4450315 - 11/24/18 02:46 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Wulfe]  
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Don't worry, Wulfe! I may get only one day at my WOFF computer between now and 17 December!

#4450412 - 11/25/18 02:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks to all for stting this up. of course, I already missed on the directions, although minor: Raine, I forgot to note in the PM that Karl Arnt Loftus will definitely be doing training. He'll need it.

#4450938 - 11/29/18 03:15 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Well, guys, let's get this show on the road...

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins

Part One: In which I am born, do very little of note, and learn to fly.

I suppose that when one writes a memoir one starts at the beginning. I was cjavascript: void(0)hristened James Arthur Collins, born in the summer of 1896 to Agnes and Frank Collins of Kingston, Ontario, Canada.

My parents were born in Stanmore, just outside London, where they were childhood sweethearts. Dad saw the army as the quickest way to earn enough to marry Mummy. He served with the 60th Rifles in Zululand and was promoted sergeant. He returned home in 1886, married my mother, left her with child, and headed for Canada to join the North-West Mounted Police. Soon he was writing home with thrilling stories of new communities springing up on the Canadian Prairies and occasional adventures controlling American whiskey traders. Mummy moved in with her parents in nearby Bushey and raised my sister Dorothy.

Father sent for my mother in 1889 and they set up home on a farm outside of Regina, Saskatchewan. Regina was then, and still is, a little bit of bugger all surrounded by a whole lot of bugger all.

I was born there in June 1896 but remember nothing of it. In early 1897, Dad quit the Mounted Police and left for the Yukon, where gold had been discovered. Mummy announced she was putting the farm up for sale and moving east to stay with a cousin in Ontario. If Dad wasn’t home by the end of 1898, she said, she would return to England and civilisation.

Arriving in the Klondike, Dad quickly realized that prospecting for gold was one of the least likely ways to make a fortune in the north. Fortune intervened when he met a Dominion land surveyor named Bill Ogilvie, who was verifying the miners’ staked claims. Ogilvie mentioned that when the claims were corrected, many small fractions were orphaned. Dad began buying up the fractional claims. Then he began buying up bench claims – land up the slopes from the stream beds. As new prospectors arrived in the area to find all the good sites already claimed, Dad sold them shares. The miners did the real work and split the proceeds with Frank Collins. Enough of them found gold to make Dad very comfortable. Meanwhile, Dad befriended a Scot named Angus McCready who had set up a small distilling operation. Father bought him out, and within a year Collins Yukon Gold Whiskey was a well-known name.

My father returned from the North just in time to prevent Mummy from leaving Canada. We settled back east in Kingston, Ontario, where we acquired a fine, stately home with a view of Lake Ontario, close by Queen’s College. Dad set up Collins distillery just outside town and hired Angus McCready to run it. My parents at last enjoyed a good life. Mother revelled in friendships with college professors and their wives while Father dabbled in Tory politics. I remember many elegant parties at the old house.

As a boy I took a great interest in things mechanical, building iceboats to race on the frozen lake in winter and tinkering with motorcycles in the summer. School was quite another thing. I took little interest in studies, which caused Mummy to fret that I would be of little use to anyone other than the army. That suited me fine.

We didn’t see many aircraft in Kingston, but after reading about McCurdy and Baldwin’s flights, I read anything I could get my hands on about aviation. In June 1910, Dad let me accompany him on a business trip to Montreal and we got to attend the Montreal Aviation Meet, where I saw the Wrights and Compte de Lessep put their machines through their paces. From that point on, I knew what I wanted to do.

[Linked Image]
Compte de Lessep at the Montreal Aviation Meet, 1910

In August of 1914 the world went mad. With Germany’s declaration of war, the entire Empire rushed to arms. As an eighteen-year-old, there was no question that I should go, too. I could see how it pained my mother, but my father’s only question was whether I should volunteer in Canada or head back to the “old country” to join the real army. The idea of joining the Flying Corps had been in my head for some time when I confided it to my father. His response was “Don’t tell your mother,” but he made inquiries and told me that it was possible to apply for the RFC without going to England, but it was first necessary to obtain one’s Aero Club of America licence. This could be through the Curtiss School in Hammondsport, New York. He gave me the four hundred American dollars I needed and promised to cover my room and board until I was taken on strength. And so the adventure began.

Or so I thought. On 14 November 1914, my father suffered a heart attack and died. Dorothy and I thought we would lose Mummy too. It was as if the world had ended for her. Until then I had never understood that these two people, my parents, lived very separate lives but were bound so very tightly together. My mother announced at Christmas that she would sell the big house in Kingston and move back to England. Father had left her very well off. In his will he stipulated that I should inherit the distillery and pay dividends into trusts for my mother and sister. He also set me up with enough to be quite comfortable.

So instead of heading to New York, I apprenticed at “my” distillery under Mr. McCready. It was a fascinating job, I discovered. Besides the craft of distilling, I engaged the comptroller, a Mr. Carson, to teach me the financial side of the business. I soon regretted my lack of interest in school work. The newspapers were full of talk of prohibition, and I worried that if I remained attached to the business I would lose my chance to fly for the Empire only to have the business shut down by the government. I directed Mr. McCready to work with Mr. Carson to prepare a plan to move the business to Quebec in the event of prohibition in Ontario. French Canada wisely looked down on temperance as a Calvinist (or worse, Methodist) plot.

In May 1915, Dorothy and Mummy headed to England, leaving me feeling very alone. I needed to get away from Kingston myself. Curtiss, I learned, had opened a new flying school in Toronto. I sent them a telegram and received an acceptance to the school by return wire. At the end of July, leaving the business in McCready’s capable hands, I boarded a train for Toronto…

[Linked Image]
Curtiss Flying School, Long Branch, Ontario

Attached Files Montreal aviation meet.jpgCurtiss Long Branch.jpg
Last edited by Raine; 11/29/18 03:18 AM.
#4450961 - 11/29/18 08:23 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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You've set the bar pretty high Raine!


Let's pretend I got the BWOC badge to embed here.

Wenn ihr sieg im deine Kampf selbst gegen, wirst schwer wie stahl sein.
#4450963 - 11/29/18 09:37 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Maeran Online content
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And so it begins. A characteristically good start Raine.

I'm still doing my homework as it were. But since it isn't December quite yet, I think I'm alright.

#4451034 - 11/29/18 06:46 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit Online content
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Raine, great to see you start the ball rolling. James hasn’t done anything yet and it is already an exciting read. What is he distilling? Not gin, I hope?
I’m waiting for Dec. 1 - the official first day of school.


"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."
#4451047 - 11/29/18 08:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Great start Raine! James already seems quite 'real', thanks to your clever imagination and attention to detail.

I will jump in soon ...

#4451147 - 11/30/18 12:26 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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,

Brilliant Raine, absolutely brilliant!

.

#4451148 - 11/30/18 12:32 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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.

Here is a clip from the most recent copy of the 1915 Roseau County Times that tells a bit about my pilot.

[Linked Image]

.

#4451158 - 11/30/18 01:27 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Brilliant! Love the newspaper format. Hope I can get a better copy of the rag next time. My eyes are going and this issue, pulled out of the trash and used as a blanket to spend the night under the bridge, isn’t doing me any favours. Great idea Lou.


"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."
#4451332 - 12/01/18 04:32 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt. Graham A. Campbell

1: Hounslow Heath.


And by some bizarre twist of fate, here I was, about to make my first solo flight! Cpt. Andrews stood beside the B.E.2c, leaning over into my cockpit and pointing to the magneto switches. "Now, Campbell, remember! If the prop doesn't go, switch off!". I nodded in acknowledgement, but the stocky Captain needn't waste his breath. During my time at Oxford, for my pilot's classroom instruction, I had sunk my teeth into every scrap of information, procedure, and piece of knowledge that was thrown before me. I shot a glance to the weary-looking mechanic standing at the nose of my B.E.; his face was gaunt, and weary-looking, I supposed from dealing with the risks of swinging beginner pilots' props all day. Although, fortunately, I hadn't seen it, I had heard from one of my fellow rookies, one Lt. Doyle Weston, that just one week before my arrival some overexcited green pilot had forgot to switch off, and a mechanic had been killed when he failed to get out of the way of the propeller. How brutal!

But, I am getting off-track. By any means, now was not the time to dwell on such things! I had my instruction from Andrews to consider - 5 take-offs, 5 landings. Climb to 1,000 feet in between. I was nervous, but quite confident, although the idea of the landings put the wind up me a little! I had been amazed, when ferried up into the clouds by Andrews on my second day, just how precise and focused he was when coming back in to land. Suddenly I was snapped out of my daydreaming by a sharp pat on the back from Andrews, whom I only now realised had been instructing me all throughout my haze. "Got all of that, Campbell?" he boomed, and, in fear of losing my chance at a first flight, I meekly nodded. "Yes, sir". The Captain looked at me warily, then turned to the mechanic and nodded. Obligingly came the mechanic's voice; "Switch Off". I echoed him, and slowly he begun to wind the propeller counter-clockwise. With his hands raised above his head, gripping one propeller blade, the mechanic gave his next instruction, this time much louder. "Switch on!". I flipped the magnetos up, and turned back. "Switch on!" I responded, and the mechanic briefly exhaled, before shouting "Contact!" and bringing the propeller down with force. The engine of the B.E.2 roared to life, and I couldn't help but grin as I felt the machine vibrating all around me. This was it!

I pushed the throttle full forwards, and in response the B.E. lurched forwards, gaining speed with each second. Suddenly the harsh sounds and vibrations of the wheels and tail skid ceased, and I looked down to see the ground growing smaller beneath me. I was flying, all by myself! Elated, I gently banked to the left, and climbed to the North, looking down at the old Hounslow Barracks and waving like a fool. I was not even sure that there was anybody down there to wave back! Before I knew it, I was at 1,000 ft, and so I completed my half-circuit around the aerodrome and came back in to land from the East. I felt a surge of fear as the ground rushed up to welcome me back, but I mastered myself and kept control of the B.E, touching down smoothly. As I taxied back to the starting position, Cpt. Andrews gave me a wave, and a thumbs-up, which made me feel quite pleased with myself, and then, having gotten back into position, took off again.

This time I was up a little quicker, as I remembered to lift the tail-skid off the ground, and so I continued West this time, looking down at the landscape below with interest. A fleet of trucks had snaked its way out of the Barracks, and I now flew above and alongside them, keeping myself entertained by switching from their left side over to their right, and vice versa. They turned off towards London, and I felt cocky enough to wag my wings in farewell, before turning around for my second landing.

On my third flight, I went South. Looking towards the still-rising sun, I was surprised to see a small cluster of tethered kite balloons, hanging like great livestock grazing on the clouds. The eerie, silent masses were a disconcerting reminder that my country had been at war for the past two years. However, as I was feeling very good about myself, just having made my first two solos, this only spurred me on. Let me get over to France, I thought, let me have a crack at the Hun! If I'd only known then what an unhealthy outlook this was for a B.E. pilot! Regardless, I thought just that, as I completed my third circuit.

Westwards for the fourth flight - a direction I was to become all-too-familiar with in the future. But, again, I merely enjoyed the sheer elation that, at that point, flying held for me, before touching down again and embarking for my 5th trip around Hounslow Heath. I had taken my first step towards becoming an air fighter, but the war was yet to come for me. As I climbed out of the cockpit of the B.E., Andrews sauntered up to me. "Good work, Campbell. Your third landing was too fast, but the rest seemed good. You'll be doing the same tomorrow, at 8 AM. That's all!". Buzzing from the experience, I thanked him and walked towards the mess, removing my flying gear. Only when I saw myself in the reflection of the mess' windows did I realise that my face was black with exhaust fumes and castor oil stains!






Last edited by Wulfe; 12/01/18 05:05 PM.
#4451349 - 12/01/18 05:43 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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1 December, 1915
Réserve Générale de 'l'Aviation, Le Bourget/ Dugny

[Linked Image]

- “Suivant! Next!” - The sound came from a very lean man sitting behind a large desk littered with papers, applications and other important looking documents. The man with the surprisingly strong voice was finishing signing another pile of documents and without raising his eyes addressed the man who had just approached his desk as instructed.
- “Et Vous-etes qui, Monsieur?” The lean man reached for another piece of paper and stamped it as if it were a roach about to get away.
- [Who am I?] The man standing in front of the desk reflected upon this straightforward question. [Who am I? I’m a simple man - I like to eat and I like to drink. I’m a baker from Marseille. Born in Avignon but moved to the seaside and settled there. Why there? Because of Violette. Ah, Violette! The loveliest creature under the sun and my wife I might add. I met her there in the summer of 1907, courted her and married her there. It wasn’t easy with her Papa expecting her to marry someone less ... uncouth, but that’s a different story for another time. I am a father to 2 girls - the 6 year old Bernadette and 3 year old Giselle. I love all my 3 girls to death and I can’t wait to see them again soon. The little one is growing up without her father because of this damned war. I am also a soldier. When the mobilization started in 1914 I was recalled to active duty and joined my old unit under the 2e Armee commanded by General de Castelnau. Our orders were to invade Alsace and Lorraine, encircle le Boche, cut them off and win the war, all in one fell swoop. The operation was part of the foolproof Plan XVII, except no one expected the Germans to anticipate this maneuver. It all went to hell and our unit, along with many others, was decimated by the well positioned enemy machine guns and field artillery. German spies had it all figured out long before we set foot on the battlefield. The rest is just a collection of still images of explosions, mutilated and dead bodies, barbed wire and blood. And the smell, the smell of rotting corpses. People, horses, dogs. I was the lucky one. The shell explosion shattered my tibia and fibula. They were going to amputate, but from what I’ve heard someone decided to put them back together and see what happens. It took 6 months to recover and I have a noticeable limp, but I can walk on my own. Thanks to the brilliant yet unknown surgeon. I never found out his name to thank him properly. So, out of the hospital and to a new assignment - kitchen duty in Verdun sector. I did not like that one bit. I was ready to desert after 2 months. Thank God for Violette and her gossiping neighbour - old widow Ponsardin, who learned that there was a great need for pilots and they would accept just about anyone who wanted to learn to fly. That was my ticket out and I sent my application the next day. It took a while and involved an unfortunate incident with the examining doctor in Paris. Dr. Jean Camus’ selection process involved firing a gun behind the unsuspecting test subjects and observing their reaction. If the subject remained calm, he would be accepted. If he flinched, well ... it wouldn’t be the desired result. The poor doctor didn’t count on my reaction to his experiment. My revolver never leaves my side, even during medical examinations. When I heard the gun go off I automatically pulled my MAS 1873 out and aimed it at whoever fired. The doctor fainted at the sight of a barrel aimed at his head. It took half an hour to calm him down and fill out my acceptance form. "Excellent sight and robust constitution" he wrote. "Just needs to lose some weight." I suppose everyone needs a hobby. I was off to Pau within a week for my basic training. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face after my first run in Bleriot Pingouin. It was the best “automobile” ride ever! Then it was off to Le Crotoy for intermediate training at Caudron factory and training facility and finally here at RGA, just outside of Paris for the final training on the twin-engined G4’s. So who am I? I am a pilot. That is who I am!]
- “I’m Sergeant Gaston Voscadeaux. Reporting for pilot training!”
- “Ah! Another l’aviateur. Bienvenue!”

[Linked Image]

Attached Files Bourget.jpgGaston A Voscadeaux.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."
#4451406 - 12/02/18 01:16 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, Black Watch
192nd Infantry Brigade
64th Inf Div ( Home Defense )

1 Dec 1915.

Last Day Walking as an Infantry man. I have been posted to Catterwick for Advanced Flight Training. B ' out time too, sense I paid for my own Flying papers on me own time. Final flights were last week, mine in a box type that barley got up to 100 feet
Sadly, We lost one trainee when he crashed. Now I know why all payments were as U go or in advance of take off.

Attached Files RAF_Bleriot  Trainer.jpgcrashedplanein1915    In a Tree.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 12/02/18 01:22 AM.
#4451434 - 12/02/18 11:03 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wonderful reading with my morning coffee! Nice to meet Graham, Gaston, and Nigel, I wish them luck and hope we will see them in our ranks for a long time to come. Great photos by the way. And Fullofit, I much appreciate the wider, historical context brought into your background story.

To my fellow: 2nd Lt. Randolph Arvid "Swany" Swanson arrived late yesterday afternoon at Netheravon for his final training. He had time to unpack and get set up in his new digs before the evening meal where he met the rest of the soon-to-be combat pilots. After dinner he went for a walk into town but had to cut it short due to a heavy rain that settled in. No flying for him today because of the weather, so instead he will practice his French in preparation for his visit to the other side of the Channel. Later perhaps he will stop by the maintenance hangars with hopes of getting his hands dirty on some bit of mechanism or another.

Keep the stories coming folks, they are most enjoyable.

Cheers, and à votre santé !
.

#4451444 - 12/02/18 01:32 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Guten Morgen alles, Feldwebel Lofthoven reporting. I had a terrible head injury last year, and have only recently been cleared to fly again. I have now reported to Lindenthal for retraining. This morning had a light rain that kept the other trainees in bed, but I saw it as a great opportunity to take advantage of an available plane. My "Emil" (or is he "Fritz?") Hauptmann Lubcke agreed, and we went up for the first time. I understand why the manual warns to have an observer present, as even with the Hauptman up front, this Aviatik BII is extremely tail heavy and needed considerable forward pressure to keep her nose down and not stall. Surely that much out of trim is a design flaw? Anyhow, we did 5 touch-and-gos to get the feel of her. I had hoped to get a better view of the surrounding area, but the rain prevented that, as we wanted to remain in sight of the field. Ach, plenty of touring time later. It seems we'll also need to make up our own area maps, as Command hasn't seen fit to provide us with any. Perhaps tomorrow?

#4451461 - 12/02/18 03:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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colorado & arizona
I can not do this! It has been over 2 years since the last one, so I guess I will just wait for the next one that is air to air combat.

You all have fun, and I will see you later.


Origin made- silverstone case,ASUS Max VI Extreme , CPU intel Core i7 4770k, cooling asotex 570LC, NVIDA 3G GTX 780 Ti , Mem 16GB Kingston Hyper X DDR3 ,game drive 120GB INTEL X25 SS, OS drive 1TB, Win 7 home Prem.Logitech G105 key board,BenQ XL2430 Gaming Monitor.
All pilots owe me a beer. Retired USAF Rescue/Survival, Special Forces, and MI (after I got old and grey).
#4451498 - 12/02/18 09:46 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Online content
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, Rfc
Training Aerodrome
Catterick

Dec 2

I managed to get up in the bad weather after being shown the Taps in the Be2. They said be quick so just a circuit then down. I kinda nicked the prop on touch down when bumping up and down. The Instructor said it was a crash, but a good one no damage to the pilot.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-02 13-35-44-02.jpg
#4451525 - 12/03/18 03:46 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Terrific stories, everyone. As Lou said, this campaign should provide Sunday morning reading for a long time. I'm sorry CW3SF can't join us, though. Dive in any time if you change your mind.

I won't get to fly until tomorrow, but while I'm travelling I thought I'd get my pilot ready to start. Here's his second episode...

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins


Part Two: In which I meet an American comrade, tame the Jenny, turn a tree fall into a windfall, visit the old country, and learn to fly all over again



The Curtiss School was a $2.30 taxi drive from Union Station in Toronto. Long Branch was a cluster of cottages mixed with a few stately homes along the shore of Lake Ontario some six miles west of downtown Toronto. The field was close by the lake to the south of Lakeshore Boulevard. I left the cab in front of the Long Branch Hotel, a vaguely oriental-looking pile on Beach Road, and found a red cap to carry my two suitcases and trunk into the lobby. Two small signs stood on the registration desk. One bore the schedule of the Rupert, a steamer that sailed six times daily from the hotel’s pier to downtown Toronto. The other stated “Alcoholic beverages strictly forbidden.” I recalled that my truck contained six bottles of Collins Yukon Gold Whiskey.

Once I had checked in, I browsed the newspaper for a place to rent and found a large cottage by the water for $12 a month, so I telephoned the owner and walked there. The place looked fine, although it would have benefitted from a can of paint. We agreed to a lease for two months. I got the key and explored – two good-sized bedrooms, a small kitchen, no gas and – being out of the city – no electricity. I lit a kerosene lamp and sat by the back window as the sun set over the lake. “What in God’s name am I doing here?” I thought. Being unable to answer the question, I returned to the hotel for a mediocre dinner and a fitful sleep.

Many of the veteran students, those who had already flown alone – “solo” was the term of art – were bound for the naval air service and had split their time between Long Branch and the seaplane base at Hanlan’s Point on Toronto Island. I made it clear to Mr. McCurdy, who ran the school, that I intended to fly for the Army and was disinterested in flying boats.

The school contained a wonderful collection of characters. I spent my first day in classroom instruction, learning the basic theory of what we were about to do in the air. Sitting in the back row with me was an American fellow from the mid-west, a rugged-looking farmboy named Swanson. The two of us were both bound for the RFC and chummed together from the start. We’d meet with a few of the other pilot candidates for cards at the cottage in the evenings and it didn’t take long for Swany to move out of the boarding houses where he was staying and move into the cottage. I covered the rent and he cooked. Swany chopped a split firewood for the stove, and I’d never seen anything like it. He was five-foot nine, an inch shorter than me, but the man was made of iron. He could split a day’s worth of wood in a few minutes, having virtually grown up next to his uncle’s sawmill.

We spent the still hours of the early hours around the hangars waiting to get up in the air. For the first few days, we were ferried about like sacks of potatoes by the instructors. One fellow from Toronto quit after being violently ill every time he went up.

One morning, the fellows in the hangar were complaining about a tall pine tree that bordered the field near the entrance road. It stood close by the turn-in and bore the scars of having stopped more than one lorry or wagon. We feared that one of us would soon fly a Jenny into the thing. A tall fellow from British Columbia said that for two dollars he’d take it down, and he claimed he could do it in under five minutes. Swany gave a loud laugh and claimed he could take “that twig” down in less than two minutes. Amid scoffing and jeers, he added “and with no more than 40 blows, as long as I have a good axe.” The British Columbian declared this typical Yankee boasting, adding that you’d expect a professional lumberjack to take nearly five minutes on a tree that size. I whispered to Swany that he should go along with me for a minute and I’d ensure that he’d bear no financial risk.

When the noise began to die down, I told Swany that five bucks said he couldn’t take down the tree, which was 14 to 16 inches thick, in less than two minutes and forty blows.

“It’s Canada versus the States!” I shouted. “Someone take note of the bets.”

Tim Flanagan, one of our students, took out a pocket notebook and a pen. “I have a dollar to say the Yank fails,” he shouted. “Who’s with me?”

In a matter of two or three minutes more than a hundred dollars were in play. “Good,” said Swany. His slight Swedish-American lilt made it sound like go-ood. “Now I need to get a good axe. The tree goes down tomorrow afternoon at four. Bring your money, everybody.”

Swany and I scoured Toronto for a four-pound double-bit felling axe that would meet his standards. We finally found a good one at last at the giant Eaton’s department store on Queen Street. Returning to Long Branch by streetcar, Swany went into a blacksmith’s and worked on sharpening the axe for more than an hour, filing and checking, filing and checking. “It’s all in getting the right angle,” he explained.”
The next day at four, Swany brought his axe to school wrapped in a blanket. At ten to four he wandered over to the tree and waited for the crowd to form. Mr. Jennings, one of the instructors, timed the exercise, and the whole crowd counted the blows. By Swany’s sixth blow of the axe, I was the only one still counting aloud, for the wiry Swede had already opened up a deep vee on the side facing the road. Without a second’s pause, he began to work on the opposite side, cutting an even deeper notch just above the first. One minute in, and the tree began to groan. By the twenty-eighth blow, it sagged, and on the count of thirty-two there was an ear-splitting crack and the tree fell neatly onto the road. We dragged it with one of the Curtiss trucks off the road to be sectioned at leisure. Swany, in the meanwhile, collected the vast sum of $143. Another American, a former cowboy named Mark Jericho, was the only onlooker to bet on Swany, and he did rather nicely too.

I soloed in a little over a week, on the same day as Jericho but a couple of weeks after our cowboy friend. Jericho was the star pupil and left the school before the end of July, bound for England. “Swany” Swanson and I got our AAeC ticket in mid-August, just before our dollar-a-minute time was up. The RFC recruiting office in Toronto arranged our travel and, as two “officer candidates”, two days after graduation and dressed in our best suits (in Swany’s case, his only suit) we boarded a train bound for the east coast. We didn’t use the seats we’d been given, since Swany booked us into first class with his newfound wealth. We dined in luxury while watching the Laurentian Mountains catch the evening sun across the St. Lawrence River as the train passed Quebec City and continued past the long strips of farmland angling down to the river and the little villages, each with its imposing metal-spired church. We had a sleeping cabin with comfortable bunks, nightcaps of Collins’ Yukon Gold whiskey, and in the morning a porter brought us breakfast as we passed Bathurst, New Brunswick and looked out on the broad Gulf of St. Lawrence. We changed trains in Moncton and by evening of the second day were in Saint John, ready to board the SS Scandinavian for England (Swany thought it wonderful they'd named a transport after him). We were glad to be aboard, as Saint John had little to offer except for its Reversing Falls, where the massive tides on the Bay of Fundy make the river run backwards half the day. Personally, I think the river takes one look at the town and turns around.

[Linked Image]
Departing on the Scandinavian

In late September we were sent to the university at Reading, west of London, for our basic classroom training, which involved lessons in navigation, engine construction and maintenance, principles of flight, meteorology, and basic soldiering topics, such as whom to salute and how to march. Marching, or drill, as it should be called, was far more complicated than I ever expected. Poor Swany had a particularly difficult time. Whenever he concentrated too hard he would “bear walk,” swinging his right arm with his right leg and vice-versa. It’s nearly impossible to do if you try, but very easy to do when you’re learning drill. The work was fairly easy and we got leave for a week afterwards. Swany headed for London and I went to Cambridge, where my mother and sister had settled.

The following week we were packed off to Castle Bromwich, near Birmingham, for flight instructions on Farman Longhorns and Shorthorns. Apparently the RFC completely ignored the fact we’d got our ticket in Canada and we were lumped in with chaps who didn’t know one end of a flying machine from the other (not that it made much difference on a Farman. Three candidates were killed while we were there. All three of them fell prey to spins, which were inevitably fatal. Towards the end we got to sport about in Avros, which were absolutely ripping buses.

[Linked Image]
Castle Bromwich aerodrome from the air

Once the course was complete, orders came to head for Netheravon, down in Wiltshire. Here Swany and I would undergo advanced training and finally get a crack at some real war flying in more modern machines.

Attached Files SS Scandinavian.jpgCastle Bromwich.jpg
#4451564 - 12/03/18 12:03 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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RAF_Louvert Offline
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L'Etoile du Nord
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CW3SF, I'm sorry as well that you won't be joining us. We'll miss you around the mess.


loftyc, nice to see Feldwebel Lofthoven joining the ranks here. I hope his head injury from last year isn't causing him grief, such injuries can linger. As to maps of your current AO, afraid you may be on your own there.


Carrick, props are expensive, best not be nicking any more of them. Hope you managed to secure one of the blades to carve your walking stick from.


Raine, outstanding stuff! A wonderful read with my morning cuppa', (read it twice actually as it was so entertaining). One point: Swany is Norwegian, but then James knows that full well yet seems to take no small amount of delight in calling him a Swede as he knows it gets Swany's Norsk hackles up.


I will be adding an installment here myself, hopefully later today, though it won't involve flying as it's going on three days of wind and mist at Netheravon which has grounded all training flights. However, Swany and James have been discussing the fact that they each need a proper pair of flying boots and have been told by a certain Lieutenant Bishop that Powney's Corner down in Salisbury is the place to find them.

.

#4451571 - 12/03/18 01:08 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou, I guess they're all "Swedes" to Jim. I'll have Swany set him right.

Powney's "Old Corner Store"? Someone's reading "Salisbury in the Great War", I'm guessing.

#4451574 - 12/03/18 01:27 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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lederhosen Offline
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Willi Aaron Rosenstein
Born 1 Dez. 1892, Stuttgart.
Pilots License #170,5
Date of issue 12. August 1912

I was the first born son of Ernst and Pauline Rosenstein, and together with my brother and sister I grew up in Stuttgart. My farther was a partner in the LW Rosenstein Company, a firm that produced medical equipment which they sold world wide. The Company became very profitable and my family lived in relative comfort. My brother and I were sent to boarding schools in Berlin. My farther had decided that I was to become a Doctor, a surgeon preferably.
He had some connections with the Charitè Universitätsmedizin in Berlin and so my whole life was being prearranged and I was to comply with my father's wishes. I suppose he only wanted the best for me, like all fathers, but inside I knew I was meant for something else. I just didn't know what though.

Autumn 1911, I passed the entrance exams, squeaked by more like it, which pleased my father immensely. My fate had been decided. Unfortunately I found myself struggling to keep up with the curriculum. The longer I studied the more I knew this wasn't for me, but duty to my father's wishes forced me to continue. Luckily, Berlin offered many a distraction for restless souls like myself. While sitting in a dubious Establishment one evening, I was reading the local newspaper when I noticed a small add........

[Linked Image]

One should know that Berlin was packed by a new fever called flying. The Johannisthal Flugplatz
was relatively new, and thousands would pay to watch these new God's fly against each other at races put on by the local Flying clubs or schools. I had never been there myself. I was bored and looking for something different, and thus decided to spectate one of these races myself.

One sunny day in March 1912 I took the tram out to Johannisthal. It was filled with so many gay and well dressed people. Everyone was awed by what they saw. All these modern heavier than air craft lined up for all to walk around, and some lucky few were even allowed to mount these wonders under the guidance of their owners. To the left of the lined up aircraft was a row of large sheds, and one of which had the words “Melli Beese” painted in large red letters. I remembered the little add in the paper and wondered over to the shed. A small door was open so I knocked and went inside the shed. Inside was a huge machine that somewhat reminded me of a dove. On it's flanks were painted the big black letters “MB”. A Woman around my age, dressed in dirty overalls, was standing close to the engine when she looked at me. I inquired about the add I had read and if the owner was present to talk to. I said I was very keen to learn flying.

[Linked Image]

After my initial shock, she reassured me that her name was Melli Beese and that she was indeed the owner and Instructor of the school. Later that day, I and a few others who were also interested, joined Melli at the nearby canteen at shed#6 to discuss our future adventure. To cut things short, I had at last found the one thing I wanted to do, and my career as a Pilot began March 1912. The next few months I spent every free hour at Johannisthal, and so neglected my study's that it was only a matter of time before my father would be informed. But I didn't care anymore. I was in love with flying and the engineering that went with it.

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1.August was perfect day for flying and this was also when I passed and received my Pilots License #170,5. I now belonged to those golden few. That summer I had great fun, and represented our club at a few races that were held at Johannisthal. In fact I was judged good enough to become an Instructor, and when Melli asked me to work for her.... I said yes of-course.

[Linked Image]


Eventually my father found out what had happened and ordered me home to explain myself. He was infuriated by my selfishness. I was supposed to be a Doctor and not some “Quack” flying around Berlin, squandering my youth on some sports club for the elite! I promised to go back to school and fly on my spare time just to placate my father. All through 1912 till summer 1913 I plied myself to the books and endless lectures, reading till deep into the night just to keep pace with the required literature of the first year. My Grades were still comparatively low and I found myself drifting more and more to the airfield and Melli. At Johannistal I made a great many friends from different aircraft firms like Rumpler, Albatros and Fokker. I even helped Melli with an aircraft patent.

As fate would have it, nothing lasts forever. In the summer of 1913 we had another airshow, and this time we had a fearless stunt pilot from Paris. Adolphe Péguod was in Berlin ! His flying skill was wonderful to say the least. He could figure eight, loop the loop, and his spiral of death caused many a faint heart to stop. I was so impressed by him that I wanted to prove before others that I too could fly like Pèguod. So one evening in August, I asked Melli if I could stunt around with her small monoplane. She looked at me, smiled, and forced me to sign a waiver in case I ended up hurting myself. I signed and went to the aircraft.

[Linked Image]


The monoplane started easily and I took off and climbed to 500m. I started with figure eights while climbing to 1000m. I wanted to start a loop by pushing my nose down but became quite afraid by the sudden speed and noise of the wires and pulled up on the column. To this day no one knows why or how such things happen, but I started to spiral or “spin” as they call it now. I had lost control and the airfield was getting closer real fast. I just panicked and pushed and pulled everything, at the same time too. The monoplane straightened itself up but I was right on top of shed #7 and crashed into it.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in the hospital. I seem to of broken my left ankle, that has forced me to limp till this day. A suspected spinal injury was also the cause of many a sleepless night as well. To make matters worse, Melli came by to wish me luck and that I shouldn't worry about the Monoplane, but that our working relationship was now ending. I had to go back to Stuttgart, and my father.

Funny how one moment can change your life. I resigned to my fate, took a job in my fathers firm and started an apprenticeship as a fine tool maker...... And then the war started.

Like all young men I jumped to volunteer. My mothers heart was broken, and my father, the socialist, saw no need for me to run off and be slaughtered for some Kaiser. And why not, with a war coming, medical equipment and supplies would be in great demand. But I could not see myself just sitting in a room when a whole generation marched on without me. In Dezember 1914, I was turned down as being medically unfit for service and that I was doing the Kaiser a greater service with the job that I already had.

By mid 1915, after the slaughter of so many men, the Kaiser needed even more of my generation to maim and kill. I applied again. This time I said that I wanted to fly and that I already owned a pilots license. And so, after weeks of waiting, here I am now at the Aviatik Militaer-Fliegerschule in Freiburg.


p.s...Had to cut this story short. After starting it I could see this chapter turning into a whole book!

Last edited by lederhosen; 12/03/18 01:31 PM.

make mistakes and learn from them

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#4451579 - 12/03/18 02:13 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Superb lederhosen, simply superb! Great historical context, great pics, great storytelling. I can't wait for the next installment.

Raine, I had not referenced that book but had actually found out about Powney's while trying to find a good, contemporary photo of the Haunch of Venison. Unfortunately, the Poultry Cross sits directly across the street from the pub and is blocking it out in every shot.

.

#4451600 - 12/03/18 04:00 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Here is 2nd Lt. Swanson's most recent letter home.


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#4451619 - 12/03/18 05:06 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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lederhosen Offline
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wow


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#4451632 - 12/03/18 06:06 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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These are outstanding, guys. I've just had a skim as I'm (technically) working. But when I get to my hotel tonight, I have some really great reading to catch up on. Tomorrow will be my first flight in the campaign, weather permitting. I read that December 1915 was one of the wettest months on record. There was a big wind storm on the 6th, I believe, so perhaps we can work that one into the stories!

#4451665 - 12/03/18 07:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Phantastic bios and stories, Sirs. They really deserve to publish as a WWI biography book.
Thank you.

#4451685 - 12/03/18 09:03 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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lederhosen Offline
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Willi arrives at Flugplatz Freiburg for advanced training. 1.Dez 1915

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Last edited by lederhosen; 12/03/18 09:05 PM.

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#4451698 - 12/03/18 09:57 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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May I just say, I'm immenseley enjoying everybody's introductory tales, and can hardly wait to see all your characters arrive in France!

I’m hoping this campaign will be a good chance to brush up on my writing skills, which are a bit ropey at the moment - good thing I have the talents here to learn from!



Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 3rd, 1915.

2: Avro.


I awoke at 6 O'Clock in the deep, enthralling blue of the early morning, and manoeuvred my way through the rows of dozing pilot trainees, remaining as silent as I possibly could. I had very quickly found out, on my second morning, that the pilot that wakes the others quickly falls out of favour! Daydreaming of returning to France (I have neglected to mention previously that I was posted earlier in the year in the infantry, but Pneumonia scuppered me before I had managed to get near the war), I found my way to the door of the Barracks and, unlatching it, stepped out to a fantastic scene of early-morning fog, like the great wispy ghost of some immense river rolling over the heath.

[Linked Image]


I was one of the few souls awake and moving on the aerodrome, and so took the time to meander around the hangars, conducting my own personal inspections of each machine. In the hangar nearest the barracks rested the training machines, a pair of B.E.2s and one Avro 504. I marvelled at the intricate construction of these surreal new machines - the criss-crossed flying wires, the elegant slope of the propeller, the wooden spars that stretched upwards like slender arms to hold the upper planes aloft...remarkable! The Avro 504 was also a fine-looking machine, although not nearly as pretty as the B.E in my opinion. Unlike the B.E's, however, the Avro had skids protruding out from the sides of the wheels, like tusks, to prevent the uninitiated pilot from 'nosing over', that is to say, flipping the machine forwards, in the case of a rough landing. In some strange way, I felt proud that I had undergone my first 'solo' without incident, or need for the skids, for only yesterday one of my fellow trainee pilots, a frighteningly young 2nd. Lieutenant named Rowan Turner, had all but buckled the rightmost skid when he came in at slightly too steep an angle to land on his 5th trip around the heath. My, did he receive a roasting from Andrews! That was, of course, before the rain begun to spit down at us, and all further flights were cancelled by Cpt. Andrews for fear of a storm.

I snapped out of my admiration for the B.E, and slunk out of the first hangar. The next hangar along housed several other B.E's, which belonged to No. 15 Squadron R.F.C. I took a peek inside to see a rigger tirelessly inspecting each inch of canvas across the skeleton of the machine. He briefly looked up at me, grunted in acknowledgement, and went back to his work. Pulling my head back out of the entryway, I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, removing one and reaching for my matchbook. The rebellious match I'd chosen struck out the first two times, but the third time the flame held fast, and I inhaled deeply.

Blowing smoke out into the cold air, I strolled over to the third, and final, hangar. I peered inside to examine the machines, and was met with a sight that immediately made me grin with anticipation. Inside the hangar lay an assortment of Vickers”Gunbuses”, and the newer single-seat Bristol Scout machines. With the split of daybreak (the sun had begun to creep over the horizon now, casting the Heath in gold) that flooded in through the crack, I could see the foreboding black shapes of Lewis Guns, white reflections gleaming on their barrels and ammunition drums, and I suddenly fancied that I was already in France, tangling each day with the dreaded Hun!

I had not realised at the time, but these were the machines of No. 24 Squadron, headed by the famous Victoria Cross winner Lanoe Hawker. If only I had realised sooner, it should have been a wealth of invaluable information to speak to him - one of the most experienced pilots in all the R.F.C! Having concluded my inspection, I made back for the mess hall. As I did, I saw two Corporals quietly grumbling to one another while wheeling the Avro out onto the still-wet grass, beads of moisture clinging to the tyres and giving them a brilliant shine. As I passed, I offered an eager 'Good Morning!' to the two Corporals, who nodded in response. "Bloody cold morning..." I thought I heard one mutter to himself. Out ahead of me I saw Lt. Webb, another trainee, practically bound out of the barracks and come jauntily over to me. Webb was another terribly young lad, of only sixteen, and had been paid into our merry band of trainees by his aristocratic father, who had many friends within the British Army, Colonels and the like. Upon telling his father he wished to fly, Webb immediately transferred from school into the training regime. His indefatigable excitement, of course, came from the fact that he was to fly his first solo today.

"Campbell! Fine morning, isn't it?" he asked me, in a chirpy tone. I regarded his face, youthful, feminine, and markedly harmless. I wondered how this young lad was ever supposed to fight a war at his age, but such questions are for the men in the recruiting offices, and not my concern. "Aye, fine morning..." I replied, and Webb beamed, before looking hungrily at the Avro, now left alone by the Corporals to sit patiently on the airfield, awaiting its master. "I'm 'going up' today! Would you believe it!" he continued, still affixed on the Avro. The answer, of course, was that I could believe it, with us being trainee R.F.C. pilots at an aerodrome, but for politeness' sake I shook my head. "No, it's quite something! Good luck!".

Webb was about to press his emphatic offensive when Cpt. Andrews appeared on the field, beckoning the rookie pilot over. "Ah, here I go!" he said, to nobody in particular, and skipped off to answer the Captain's summons. I took the chance to return to the Barracks in order to write my diary. I told the blank pages of the stunning beauty of the early-morning Heath, to the muffled sound of the Avro starting up, before heading to the mess to have my breakfast, eggs and bacon and a bowl of porridge afterwards.

Heartily fed, I headed back outside to watch the young Webb flying his circuit. Shakily he drifted through the sky, and was halfway round the aerodrome when suddenly his engine sputtered, missed, and cut out completely. A deafening silence hung in the air, as I felt a surge of fear for the lad. In my head, I repeated the cardinal rule outlined to me by every instructor I had crossed paths with: "Don't turn back! Glide forwards and look for a good landing spot!". Fortunately, the Heath had several flat, grassy fields for the youngster to put down in, but almost as if to spite my recollection I watched in mute horror as the Avro dipped its Starboard wings and attempted to loop round for the aerodrome. The plane wobbled and shuddered, its nose dropping, and for one agonising second I thought the machine would spin, but it thankfully snapped back into a dive, and came down in a curve towards the airfield. The landing angle wasn't quite right, however, and the skids buckled, jolting the nose of the aircraft into the ground with a sickening force. The undercarriage collapsed upwards with the skids, and the aeroplane lay on its nose with its tail pointed in the air.

[Linked Image]


I watched a truck, loaded with several corporals & medics, assembled in the blink of an eye by Andrews, speeding towards the wreckage and pulling the frail young lad out. To my great relief, he was only dazed with a mild concussion, but he looked so terribly shaken, and as pale as a sheet as he was checked over by the ground crew. From my observation point I heard Andrews roaring enraged questions at the poor boy, before he was promptly whisked away.

Over the next two hours, I quietly replayed the event in my head, shuddering continuously at the thought of the nightmare situation that had played out in my head. In fact, I was so dazed by the occurrence that I didn't notice my own B.E. being wheeled out for my five laps, until Andrews came and fetched me. These five trips round the Heath bore nothing of the excitement I'd felt yesterday. Instead, each shudder, quirk, and gust of wind spelled my doom in a spin. When I'd landed for the fifth time, I was very grateful indeed. My body must have commanded my actions by instinct in the air, for Andrews said that I had done better than yesterday. Amazing, what fear can do for you...


Last edited by Wulfe; 12/03/18 10:57 PM.
#4451713 - 12/03/18 11:23 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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December 3, 1915

Papers arrived today. Amazing that the RFC bureaucracy actually tracked me to Glasgow on leave. Maybe things at Castle Bromwich have gotten a bit more organized since I left two weeks ago (not likely!). Anyway, it's official ... Second Lieutenant Aleck Allen MacKinlay!

And to top it off, I have been assigned to active duty. Will have to cut short my visit with Mother and Father and head south immediately. Required to appear in France before the end of the month; seems like plenty of time if all goes well. Thanks to Father I have all the kit I need and can head out directly. Will pack up this evening and say my goodbyes in the morning.


http://SimHQ.com/forum/tmp/12558.jpg

Attached Files Glasgow.JPG
#4451736 - 12/04/18 02:13 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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What a great bunch of stories! Wulfe, good description of Graham's first flight in a BE. Fullofit, I really enjoyed Gaston's backstory. That postcard of the gate at RGA Le Bourget was a great touch. Carrick, best of luck with Nigel. Stay out of the trees! Loftyc, good job getting through the touch and gos. Lederhosen, you had me reading up on Melli Beese. Fascinating bit of research and period colour. And I really loved the photo of the takeoff from Freiburg in your second installment. 77Scout, here's tae the wee Glaswegian!

Lou, the hometown paper clipping was an inspired touch, as was the RFC letterhead. Sounds like the boys had a great outing in the rain at Stonehenge and in Salisbury. I'll pick up Jim's story tomorrow night as I forgot to go into workshop settings and "Log all," so I'll be redoing the first flight from Netheravon then.

Have fun everyone. With the work that you've put into your pilots, you'll be genuinely nervous putting them in harm's way once we all get to the front. I just home we get our hours in during December with all the rain that month...

#4451737 - 12/04/18 02:17 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Online content
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Really great Start up stories everyone.

#4451781 - 12/04/18 12:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
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Wulfe, another excellent read, most evocative storytelling. You needn't concern yourself about your writing skills as they are not remotely ropey - well done.

Scout, good to see that Aleck's papers came through. He'll beat us all to France!

Raine, thanks, I rather liked the newspaper clipping myself, but then I am biased. Seriously though, I am finding it a fair bit tricky to actually dial back my usual writing style when it comes to these reports. I'd gotten myself so locked into the British mindset with old Arty that I have to stay mindful he doesn't creep back in when I am creating the episodes for Swany. I should actually have a much easier go of it this time as I can use my own voice, more or less, seeing as how I've grown up in Minnesota and have many Norwegian relatives, several of whom live up in Warroad and Roseau.

Speaking of Swany, despite being up late last night he still arose bright and early and was out on the aerodrome shortly after five to see what the weather was looking like. No wind at that point and only a hint of intermittent rain. He is hopeful that come sunrise he will be able to get a flight in on the B.E.2.

Keep the stories coming folks, they are really making my morning coffee that much sweeter.

.

#4451864 - 12/04/18 09:09 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wow, amazing stories everybody!

My pilot will begin his career in January, so I will post his first entry a bit later this month.


"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
#4451881 - 12/04/18 11:12 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 4th, 1915.


Last night, after I had returned to the Barracks, several of the trainees had gathered around and were feverishly discussing Webb's Avro crash.

Lt. Weston (whom you may remember was the unfortunate chap who witnessed a mechanic being killed in a prop-spinning accident) called me over excitedly, mentioning to the small gaggle of recruits that I had seen the whole incident firsthand. "Go on, Graham, tell us what happened!" he urged, as the other men seemed to draw a collective anticipating breath. I looked them over, shocked that they should be so curious about a crash when many were yet to fly their first solo, but, I thought it best not to keep my impromptu audience in suspense. "Well, you see, he was doing his first turn around the aerodrome, he'd gotten up in the air with no issue, but about halfway round I heard his engine miss, and the silly bugger tried to turn back. In the blink of an eye he was tipped over on his nose, on the ground". An uncomfortable silence followed my explanation, followed by Weston matter-of-factly blurting out "well, Andrews has told us enough not to turn back, it's the lad's own bloody fault!". It rather seemed to me like he was trying to bolster his own courage; perhaps the crash had left the men shaken after all.

After a short half-hearted discussion about Webb's condition (the poor old Avro got not a single mention!) I was offered to join the men in a game of cards, which I politely declined. By that point in the night, I still hadn't fully recovered from the shock of seeing Webb come down.

Anyway. That was yesterday, and today was a new day. I awoke around 7 O'Clock, feeling surprisingly well-rested, and slowly pulled my uniform on. I was in no spectacular rush to get myself prepared for the day, as I already knew that I was not scheduled to do any flying. Instead, I rather fancied asking Andrews if I could make a quick excursion to London, to experience some of the charms of the Capital. Perhaps even a trip to Hendon aerodrome, to see the wide range of machines they had there! It was at Hendon that I'd seen my first aeroplane fly, which had inspired me to pursue a transfer to the R.F.C.

Once I was ready, I made my way through the bunks and idle pilots towards the door. Curiously, I passed one bunk that had been freshly-made already, and had no kit resting on the floor beside it. I was sure I had seen that bunk occupied when I had arrived! Glancing strangely at the absent bunk, I continued outside and made for my cigarettes. It was only as I was lighting up that I realised, my, that's Webb's bunk! The poor lad must have been scared right off of flying for good. Who could blame him, after all?

As I smoked, I saw two 'pusher' machines coming in to land. At first I thought that they were two of No. 24's Gunbuses, but as they drew closer I could see that they were a new single-seater type that I didn't recognise. The two machines glided in, blipping their engines as they levelled out, and both made beautifully smooth landings. As they taxied towards the hangars, I noticed that each machine had a Lewis gun mounted in the pilots' forward nacelle. Single-seaters with machine-guns!

Unfortunately, I never did manage to get away to London for the day. Instead, I marvelled over the new machines. They belonged to No. 24, and a short chat with one of their pilots revealed that they were called "D.H.2s", and were supposed to be the answer to the Fokker monoplane menace. Gosh, I do hope I'm put in one of those when I get to France!

In the evening I was approached by one other trainee, 2nd. Lt. Jack Fisher. The man had a drunken look about him, red-faced and perpetually smiling. I assumed he would ask me about the Avro Crash, but it came as a pleasant surprise when he asked me in a chirpy, musical voice about my opinion on the B.E.2. I told him, and our chat led elsewhere. I swapped him stories of my time in the Sherwood Foresters, my first initial day in France and my unfortunate case of Pneumonia, and he paid me off in tales of his time as a Concert Pianist, before the war, playing to various Aristocrats, and even Royalty in some cases!

I soon discovered that Fisher and I got along near-instantly, and felt quite good about having formed the makings of my first friendship at Hounslow as I retired for the evening.

Last edited by Wulfe; 12/04/18 11:56 PM.
#4451892 - 12/05/18 12:30 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit Online content
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Awesome stories everyone. It looks like this challenge kicked it up a few notches. The ideas are just flowing and the excitement is growing, even though we're not even describing combat yet! I'm so impressed.

4 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Vouscadeaux

Well, the first 2 days were uneventful. All flights were grounded due to rain and strong winds. There was still plenty to do on the ground and the students were kept busy. It also gave me the chance to write a letter to Violette and the kids. Unfortunately, this lull made it possible for me to also finish my weekly wine rations prematurely. The next day, when it came to my turn at the controls, I felt uneasy on an “empty stomach” and the 5 take-offs and landings exercise took more effort and concentration than I expected. The heavy clouds in the sky reflected my disposition. Today the weather remains as foul as yesterday and the second set of take offs and landings triggered the feeling of déjà vu. Despite all this negativity the exercise went smoothly until the fifth and final take-off. Once clear of the aerodrome the rain started to come down in buckets. The visibility was close to null. I’ve managed to make a circuit and lined up for landing when the rain let up and the visibility returned to acceptable levels. I was just about to curse Toutatis and Belenos for playing a trick on me, when a column of army trucks appeared in front of my flight path, right at the edge of the landing field. My eyes grew to the size of saucers and my hands gripped the control column and pulled so hard that I thought I’m going to break it. The bird begun to slowly gain altitude through my sheer will alone and barely cleared the line of trucks before setting down on the wet grass of the aerodrome’s field. I realized I was still holding my breath. I started to giggle. If I had some wine left I would offer it to the gods. It was then that I realized that this flying business isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files Shot12-04-18-18-28-36.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."
#4451899 - 12/05/18 03:11 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Good stuff, Wulfe and Fullofit. You have me looking things up all the time, like refreshing my memory of Toutatis (dim recollection of Asterisk the Gaul swearing "By Toutatis"). Inspired by Lou's latest, here is the third installment of Jim Collins's memoirs. By the way, how is the Caudron? I bet it's fun to fly. I noted that Gaston Caudron died in December 1915, the 4th if I recall. Don't do like him!

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins

Part Three: In which I am introduced to a Guardsman and a real war pilot, purloin a vehicle, visit a Druid site, and acquire culture, undergarments, and a surfeit of beer.


A tender met Swany and I together with four other novice pilots at the station in Salisbury and drove us to Netheravon. The forty-minute jaunt in the back of the open-topped lorry was spoiled only by the constant rain and cold, but overall we enjoyed the change of scenery. The fields here were open and wide, not unlike Saskatchewan only greener. At length we pulled into a cluster of little white buildings with red tile roofs and faux Tudor facings. It seemed like a fine holiday camp, save the disapproving eye of a sergeant-major who barked his welcome: “Well, well, well. Look at all the fine young sirs with their bleedin’ picnic hampers ready to kill their silly selves and make my hard-working men put their bleedin’ machines back together!”

He said his name was Sergeant-Major Brookings, and he took a roll call and formed us for inspection right on the roadway. A young captain appeared and the sergeant-major snapped off a salute and marched off with guardsman’s precision (we later learned he was seconded to the RFC from the Grenadier Guards). The captain introduced himself as Captain Hampton-Lewis and proceeded to assign us our instructors. We were to get our kit sorted out in our assigned huts and report to the Officers’ Mess to meet them in a half-hour.

Swany and I were assigned to a hut with a fellow named O’Brien who was nearly done his training and was awaiting his coveted wings. The fourth bed in the hut was vacant except for a trunk. Its occupant had crashed on takeoff the previous day and was to be buried that afternoon.

The mess was a nice surprise, a fine two-storey building with comfortable furniture, a piano, several good writing tables with stationery aplenty, a bar, and a lovely warm fire. Major Ganbert, the OC, welcomed us newcomers and I met my instructor, Lieutenant Thomas. He had recently returned from France where he had served with No 1 Squadron since the start of the war. Since Swaney had disappeared with his instructor, I visited the hangars on the field, which was a few hundred yards east of the camp.

The wind was blowing thirty knots and the rain fell in sheets. Flying was out of the question. I plodded back to the mess and caught up with my letter-writing. Swaney appeared shortly after and informed me that most of the pilots here were billeted outside the camp, so it was relatively easy to get permission to leave the area. In fact, he’d already discovered that the OC had access to a fine touring car and he suggested I persuade him to part with it for the afternoon. I thought in highly impertinent to ask, but had the good fortune to see the Major come into the mess for a cup of tea. Not having yet met the adjutant I approached the OC and asked how one could arrange a few hours’ leave from the camp to pick up some tea and incidentals for our hut.

“The Adj is away today, so just go. Besides, if you’re still about this afternoon, you’ll be required to carry a coffin – not good for the spirit, what? If the guard gives you a hard time of it, tell him I cleared it. Do you drive?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Then take my Crossley. You’ll find it beside my office. Be back by nine.”

I returned to Swaney, who had moved his armchair next to the fire. “We’re all set. I have the car.”

Swaney whistled and mouthed the word #%&*$#. “It’s amazing what a little money can do, Jim,” he said.

“It cost me,” I told him. “You owe me dinner.”

We made a fine day of it, driving a few miles south to see the famous stone circle of Stonehenge. We remarked on the massive amount of work the thing required and wondered why on earth it would have been built. I suggested that some Druid version of Sergeant-Major Brookings had found some warriors has misapplied their blue woad and set this thing up as punishment duty.

We headed into Salisbury. We’d caught only glimpse of it this morning and it looked like a fine place. We were not disappointed. We toured the cathedral and saw the Magna Carta. Then Swaney told me that another pilot at the camp had told him of a bootmaker and military provisioner in town and he wanted new boots. The boots were so impressive that I ordered myself a pair as well, plus a fine set of long woolen underwear for flying. Our parcels in hand, we headed next door to a storybook inn called the Haunch of Venison. Since Swaney was paying for dinner, I told him to find a place by the fire and I would get us a couple of pints of good bitter.

[Linked Image]
"Our parcels in hand, we headed next door to a storybook inn called the Haunch of Venison."

Dinner was the finest meal I’d had in England to date, and afterwards the place filled up with some RFC types, including several from 20 Squadron, which was working up on the fine new FE2 two-seaters. More ale was downed while we discussed the merits of different aircraft. The consensus was that the BE2 was unlikely to kill you unless you met the Hun, and then you were dead. The FE2 was superb. The little DH2 pusher scout was lovely to fly until it spun. You couldn’t get out of a spin in one, so you were dead. The Morane was to be avoided at all costs. It would kill you on takeoff, or spin, or kill you on landing. You would be too busy to worry about Hun machines.

I was in no shape so Swaney drove us home. He drove faster than I’d have wanted, but he told me that drunks really shouldn’t be on the road for long so he had to hurry.

The next day it rained again and I took ground instruction on the BE2. Unlike the Farman it has a unified control called a joystick. The training machines were all rather tired and did not give full power, but Mr. Thomas assured me it would be quicker off the mark than anything I’d flown to date.

3 December 1915 dawned drizzly and wet, but the wind had died and Thomas told me I was going up to do circuits and landings. He went over the instructions one last time and I nervously atammered through the starting procedure, waved away the mechanics, and trundled out to the east end of the field. I said a quick prayer and opened the throttle fully. The Renault engine roared and the machine bumped over the wet grass. In a few seconds the bumps stopped and, without my really noticing it, the BE2 climbed easily into the grey sky. It was wonderfully stable. I leaned over to check my height compared to the slight rise and row of trees at the far end of the field. Rain stung my face like needles. I hunched behind the triplex windscreen and adjusted the mixture. At a thousand feet I began a turn to the right. Although the wind was negligible at ground level, at this height it buffeted the machine and I kept the throttle fully open. Coming around to land I throttled back to idle and adjusted the mixture again. The machine skimmed the treetops. Ahead loomed a telephone or telegraph wire. I opened up and staggered over it at the edge of a stall, and then nosed down and throttled back, just skimming over the crest of a low hill by a farm at the east side of the field. I wallowed in and touched down.

[Linked Image]
"In a few seconds the bumps stopped and, without my really noticing it, the BE2 climbed easily into the grey sky."

Thomas stood in the open door of a hangar, smoking his pipe. My machine came to a stop and he signalled to take off again. The second and third circuits were both to the right, each one better than the one before. One of the biggest differences I found between this machine and the old “Rumpety” or Avro was in the bracing. The BE had Royal Aircraft Factory streamlined wires which did not hum and sing like the regular type does. Two circuits to the left followed. On my last landing I touched down mere feet from the near end of the field and rolled up to the hangar, where the Ack Emmas caught the wings and prepared to wheel the machine inside. The driven rain had removed most of the varnish from the propeller. Thomas took out his pipe, spat on the ground, and said “Not bad, Collins. Same again tomorrow.”

The next day we saw the sun for a few minutes and I got in my five circuits again. This time I set myself a goal to land slowly enough that I would not pass a small building halfway down the field. I succeeded on four out of five tries. It was absolutely topping to be flying a true war machine at last!

Attached Files First flight.pngHaunch.jpg
#4451921 - 12/05/18 10:55 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Another fine trio of tales added to the fledgling collection. Wulfe, some people just want all the bloody details when it comes to crashes, I never quite understood why. Fullofit, I am quite green about Gaston getting to fly the Caudron, the lucky buggar. Raine, great stuff, and where did you find that excellent old photo of the pub, it's precisely what I'd been looking for.

Swany did manage to get a circuit in yesterday morning but it was cut short as the engine conked on his B.E.2 when coming in for his fourth touch. But it did give him some practice making a dead stick landing, which he pulled off without incident - thankfully. He's hoping to get his full time in today, provided the weather doesn't have other plans.

Keep 'em coming gents!

.

#4451927 - 12/05/18 11:42 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou, somehow I doubt they would use state of the art machines like the G.4 to learn to fly, but hey - they’re French! And I agree, Gaston lucked out.
Raine, I was hoping someone would get the reference from Asterix. I don’t think they still celebrate these older gods. The Caudron is surprisingly agile for something that barely fits into a hangar. Gaston is confident he will be able to keep up with the Eindeckers, but it’s the wine talking. He’s only completed 2 flight training missions after all. The only negative about this bird is the forward visibility. Good thing there is a mitraillieur in front to let him know what’s ahead and, of course, to shoot down the dastardly Boche.


"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."
#4451934 - 12/05/18 12:27 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Having the flown the Caudron in a French career, I can say it's more than capable of defending itself in 1916, and handles pretty nicely too.

Last edited by Hasse; 12/05/18 12:27 PM.

"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
#4451936 - 12/05/18 12:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks Hasse, that makes Gaston breathe easy. Having flown German career, Aldi Schwarzkopf found Caudrons to be an easy prey. I suppose it all depends on who is at the controls.


"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."
#4452009 - 12/05/18 11:52 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 4th, 1915.



Hugo Lane is missing, and one of our training B.E's has vanished with him.

As per Andrews' instruction, he was to fly to Beaulieu, land, and return. However, after three hours of impatient waiting, Andrews finally telephoned the Adjutant's office there, only to find out that Lane (and, more importantly in Andrews eyes, the B.E.2!) had never arrived. The ever-optimistic Fisher reckons he simply had some kind of mechanical failure, and put down en route, and assures us all that Lane will make a reappearance by the end of the night. Weston thinks he's gotten lost, and ended up in some farmer's field. I could believe either of them readily enough!

It is, for now, a mystery. We still have one B.E.2 left, and I am scheduled to go up in it shortly. Andrews wants me to stay up for a full fifteen minutes this time, and complete a wide circuit of the Heath. Although I shall only be up for less than an hour, I am very well braced, for it shall be the longest individual stint I've spent in the air to date! that being said, the weather was markedly less favourable than my first two trips into the sky - there was a fairly strong wind coming in from the South, and above the airfield a large flock of Seagulls circled and cried out. As my father had taught me, seagulls this far in-land meant that a storm was imminent. On the grass outside the barracks sat Weston and I, switching our attention between watching the wheeling birds and scanning the skies for a sign of either of our B.E.2s. By the way - our remaining accounted-for machine, in which I was scheduled to fly, was currently up somewhere in the air nearby, being flown by 2nd. Lt. Freddy Foster, our resident Kiwi.

Freddy was, by no doubt, one of the most interesting chaps in the trainee's barracks. Allow me to explain. Not only had Freddy been a relatively well-known Boxing champion in Nelson, a town on the Northern coast of New Zealand, but he had also landed with the ANZACs on Galipoli, as a Sergeant, in May. Only four days after the landing at Helles, he was twice wounded, in the left knee and hip, by machine-gun fire, which led to him having a severe limp. He was invalided back to New Zealand soon after, but, refusing to let his injuries deprive him of serving the Empire, travelled to England, and the Flying Corps, to continue his war on grounds that accommodated his debilities.

His image seemed to match his history. Cresting sharply-defined cheekbones and a squared-off jawline, his slightly curling dark hair was cut in a practical short back-and-sides, combined with a thick moustache, parted in the middle, curling upwards and away from the corners of his mouth, gave him an impossibly stern appearance. Above his curling moustache and slightly-flattened nose sat two piercing blue eyes, which seemed to stare through you as you spoke. In fact, they seemed to stare through the landscape, into some deeply hidden memory.

[Linked Image]
Sgt. Freddy Foster,

Naturally, we all expected this dangerous-looking Colonial to throw his weight around from the onset, and bully us all around. Imagine our surprise when we discovered that, in actuality, Freddy was as delightful as you'd like, a real top fellow! He'd always offer his own time on the B.E. to the pupils in need of extra flight hours, and was always first to help out a fellow in need. On top of that, he had a wicked humour, and would often do an impression of Cpt. Andrews in the evening that would have us rolling in fits of laughter! 'The Hounslow Hellhound', he called the act. It was only after we had learned of Freddy's true nature that we begun to notice, hidden behind the battered boxer's features, the laugh-lines around his eyes and mouth. We simply could not fathom that a seemingly born-fighter would be so jovial!

Anyway, I don't mean to ramble on. By any means, here came Freddy now, elegantly touching down in our remaining B.E, before taxiing to face West again and dismounting the machine. From underneath his scarf and helmet appeared his beaming face, red with cold, and he shouted across the airfield to me "She's all yours, mate! Ethan's got her running like a dream!". Cpl. Ethan Knight was the engine fitter for our B.E's, and took the care of our machines very personally.

I smiled back, and thanked him from afar, as I pulled my own flying coat on. I made for the B.E, but was intercepted by Andrews, who had yet again appeared from thin-air as I've known only R.F.C instructors to do. "Campbell. Fifteen minutes' flying around the area. Don't take her above 3,000 feet, and remember! If your engine misses, don't you dare turn back!". I nodded solemnly, but the memory of Wyatt's close call was all the reminding I needed. I clambered into the B.E, as one of the mechanics jogged over to my nose, grabbing the prop and beginning to twist it. "Switch on!" came the call. I fingered the magnetos upwards, and repeated the phrase. In response, the mechanic cried "Contact!", and I was instantly wrapped in the pleasant vibrations of the engine.

Once the mechanic and the Captain had stepped clear, I confidently pushed the throttle lever forwards, and the machine answered eagerly, and in a few seconds we were airborne. At first I was slightly un-nerved by the way the wind was buffeting me about, but I had soon eased to the sensation and was enjoying the thrilling roar of the wind as I climbed, banking gently North, towards London. I followed the great winding Thames river until I reached the Capital. Of course, I had visited London twice before, but from this elevated point I was amazed by the size of the city. By the time I was crossing over the top of Hendon, I had reached 2,000 feet. Below me, I watched in delight as an Avro stunted close to the ground. Peering over the side of my cockpit, I almost forgot that I was piloting a machine myself, but this was soon made apparent to me again as a particularly harsh gust of wind knocked me almost onto my side! Alarmed, I righted the machine and vowed not to shun her again.

Although I was thoroughly enjoying my view from the edge of London, I had to make sure that I didn't lose sight of the aerodrome, as I had no map, and so I turned the B.E. South, crossing on the other side of the Heath towards Esher, and the stunning lakes beyond them. Feeling exhilarated, I almost considered stunting over the water, but I feared that the omnipresent Andrews may catch me! The thought of the Captain reminded me that I was to be back in fifteen minutes, and I had been up for just over twelve now. Reluctantly, I came back down (having reached 2,800 ft in total) and turned back for Hounslow.

When I arrived, Lane had returned with his own B.E. As Weston had predicted, he'd gotten himself lost on the trip. Incidentally, this led to Weston winning a wager with Fisher. It also led to an almighty chewing-out of Lane by Cpt. Andrews!






Last edited by Wulfe; 12/05/18 11:53 PM.
#4452015 - 12/06/18 12:29 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe,

Now THAT was an immersive episode. Very nicely done!

#4452023 - 12/06/18 02:41 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

3 Dec 1915.

Wet, Slushiness and generally bad weather. Stayed inside after helping the Riggers had all Flying machines covered.

Attached Files Early_B.E.2c.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 12/06/18 02:46 AM.
#4452045 - 12/06/18 07:05 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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2nd Lt. Aleck A. MacKinlay

December 4, 1915:
Was not able to get train tickets on short notice so ended up staying in Glasgow an extra day. Worked out marvelously as I was able to head over to the University and see some of my Profs and classmates and say farewell. Father is still a bit upset that I won't be finishing my final year of engineering, but he has mostly come around and now actually seems proud to see me doing my part for the war. Funny, I really have the old man to thank for my wings; if he hadn't been working with Richard Barnwell at the Clyde Shipworks I never would have had a chance to get in touch with his son Harold Barnwell. What luck to have Harold usher me right into the Vickers Flying School this summer. Thank God for 'connections' or I would likely be heading off to some muddy trench rather than a pilot's barricks (they will have barricks I hope, not bloody tents).

December 5, 1915:
Said my farewells to Mother and Father this morning. Mother was quite upset. I hate these emotional goodbyes and tried to assure her I would keep myself safe and be back home before she knows it. Father even seemed a bit teary, which shocked me a bit. Never seen that from him before. Got a cab to Glasgow Central Station, and had a gloomy cold train trip along the West Coast Main Line to Birmingham. The weather was dreadful and wet but the trip was uneventful. I could have made it to London in a day but decided to stop off and see the lads at No. 5 Training Squadron; I have a few days to spare. Was able to hop a ride on an army lorrie that was heading east and arrived at Castle Bromwich in time for evening mess. Even though I have only left two weeks ago, there are lots of new faces. I wonder if the new sods have figured out yet that half the instructors at good old 'Number 5' don't know their arse from a cylinder bore. Oh well, I made it through alive, so I guess most of the others will too. Had drinks and good cheer with several of the lads; Squiffy, Nelson, Harrison, that bunch.

December 6, 1915:
After a rather bad sleep on a spare cot, I had breakfast with the lads, then caught a car ride back into Birmingham. Soon back on the train towards London and within a few hours I was milling about with a huge crowd in the Great Hall at Euston Station. Have made arrangements to stay with Aunty Glenise at her townhouse in West Kensington for a few days while I sort out my transport to France. I would have walked there had it been nicer weather (not too far from the station), but it was raining like the devil so splurged on a cab. Aunty was thrilled to see me, making quite a fuss over my new uniform, and had a splendid hot meal and tea for me in short order. Happy to settle into a proper bed again in her spare room.

http://SimHQ.com/forum/tmp/12607.jpg
Euston Station

Attached Files Euston station.jpg
#4452056 - 12/06/18 09:03 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks, Raine! Glad you enjoyed it!

Sgr. Graham A. Campbell
Hounslow Aerodrome
6 December


We were all jolted out of our sleep this morning by a terrific thunderclap right over the top of the Barracks. We blearily looked around at each other, all half-sat up in our bunks, through the low visibility of morning. Listening to the wind howling through the building, and the rain savagely beating at the roof, I watched in amazement as Freddy, three bunks forwards of mines, promptly laughed, lay back down and went to sleep again. There were several more thunderclaps, but the stubborn Kiwi refused to be roused by them. I suppose that he was somewhat used to sleeping through such a percussive din.

About half-an-hour after we had all finally fallen out of our bunks (again, except for Freddy), the door swung open with an almighty crash, to reveal a drenched Corporal who regarded us all with a hateful eye. "By order of Cpt. Instructor Andrews, there shall be no flying today". He bawled. "Whyever not?" Weston called back, and we all chuckled. The dripping Corporal growled under his breath, and promptly stepped backwards out into the storm, hunching himself over in a vain attempt to keep from becoming further drenched, and the door swung shut once more.

A few of the more resilient lads decided to try and get a hold of a car to take a trip into London, but the majority of us were content to laze around the Barracks, writing letters home, playing cards, and otherwise keeping ourselves entertained. The day seemed to drag on at a snail's pace, with the constant howl of the wind and beating of the rain slowly fading into the background of our conscious thought. When we reluctantly headed to the mess, all of us at once, a small group of pilots, including Weston, had the barmy notion of throwing a bedsheet over their heads to keep dry. I only feel sorry for the chap who will have no sheets to sleep under tonight!

We had again the breakfast of Bacon and Eggs, which in all honesty had become somewhat tiresome, and decided to stay put in the mess rather than braving the weather once more to return to our quarters. Outside the window I could see that the seagulls were gone, having issued their warning the day before. As I looked up into the dull sky, a flash of white caught my eye on the airfield and, looking down, I was amazed to see a B.E, tilted on one wing, sliding along the aerodrome with two mechanics in tow, before finally tilting completely on to its back! Desperately the two mechanics fought to tether the rogue machine down, and I (now joined by several others) cheered them on from our vantage point, finding the whole spectacle to be incredibly amusing. To nobody's surprise, before long Freddy's shape appeared on the field, bounding over to help the two poor mechanics, and with his help they had soon tethered down the waterlogged aeroplane.

The rest of the day past just as slowly as the first half had done, and we soon became bored with our newspapers, cards, and unsavoury stories about encounters with young ladies back home. When it was finally time to turn in for the night, we all crowded out of the safety of the mess, being blasted one last time by the storm, before gratefully sinking down to sleep, to put this most boring day behind us. Some of the bunks were still empty, and so I assumed that our pals had made it out to London after all, and were currently still in the middle of a binge.

Last edited by Wulfe; 12/06/18 09:04 AM.
#4452086 - 12/06/18 02:02 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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This is great, my morning coffee time just keeps getting better!

Wulfe, more excellent storytelling. As noted by Raine, very immersive stuff.

Scout, well done. I do hope Aleck will take advantage of his time in London, especially during the holiday season.

Carrick, bad weather has been the curse for a lot of folks here. Hopefully Nigel will get some flying in today.

.

#4452088 - 12/06/18 02:10 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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December 6th, 1915
Netheravon, Wilts.

2nd Lt. Swanson was an early riser, the chores given him while growing up on the family farm along the Minnesota-Canada border had seen to that, despite what his personal preference concerning sleep schedules may have been. It was habit now, and one he had come to appreciate. He dressed quietly but quickly and slipped out of the hut without waking Collins or O’Brien. Heavy dew embraced the grass and trees but the air was clear. A rosy glow illuminated the eastern horizon and lit up the underside of the low wispy clouds that dotted the sky. And there was no wind, at least not at the moment. It would soon prove itself to be a wonderful morning for flying. For now though, Swany simply enjoyed having this quiet time as his own.

He walked towards the flying field, removing his maternity tunic as he did so, and as he passed the camp flagpole he hung it on the halyard cleat. He rolled up the sleeves of his Greyback shirt and began to jog, out along the edge of the field, upwind, past the collection of small hangars and sheds that stood there. He made the first turn and continued across the near end of the field, he could already feel the dew soaking into his stockings along the top edge of his shoes and was wishing he'd gone to the trouble of doing up his puttees. No matter, the exercise felt good and he needed it, truth be told he craved it. Years of strenuous physical labor and activity made it so.

He undid his collar button as he rounded the second turn and continued along the far edge of the field. The sun was just about to crest and the trees and buildings began casting long, murky shadows. They reminded Swany of certain early mornings back home when he would be out tending to the cows – or hunting ducks and geese, crouched in a stand of reeds, shotgun at the ready – or having a cup of coffee with his uncle as they prepared for a day of tree felling or milling – or out checking the traplines, hoping for some good pelts that would add more coins to his flying fund. Always busy, always something to be done.

The downwind end of the field had been reached and Swany made the third turn. A sliver of sun now blazed on the horizon. It was a marvelous sight after so many days of rain and gloom. He hoped it would last and allow him and his fellow pilots-in-training a chance at some extended flying. For as far back as he could recall he loved being up above the ground, and began climbing trees at an age far younger than approved of by his parents. He had no fear of heights whatsoever and when Swany turned fifteen his uncle took advantage of this fact by sending him up to top off and limb pine trees before they were felled. The young man adored the task as it gave him the view of the world he craved – the view from above. Kakaygeesick, the chief of the local Chippewa tribe that, for centuries, had inhabited the land which Swany’s family now called home, once told him that he had likely been a bird at one time and that this was why he was always longing to get up into the sky. When the elder heard that Swany would be going off to fly aeroplanes he smiled and said, “animwewebizo”, which was to mean, “he flies away with noise”. Soon others in the tribe, upon seeing Swany in town or along the road, began calling out the same thing. It made him laugh just thinking about it.

The final turn had been reached and the young man covered the last leg of the circuit at a sprint, past the line of large hangars at that end of the field, and back towards the flag pole. He could hear the mechanics getting buses ready in anticipation of the upcoming flights. Upon reaching the pole Swany stood there, breathing deeply, hands on hips, stockings soaked through, and perspiration wet on his brow. He should have been chilled to the bone given the temperature of the early morning air and his lack of tunic, but instead he felt invigorated and warm. Suddenly a voice came from behind him, stating in a matter-of-fact tone, “I can’t decide if you’ll outlive us all or die young from pneumonia.”

Swany spun around. “Jim! What a beautiful morning, huh? I bet we get some real flying time today.”

“I’ll take that bet, but first I need something warm to drink and a bite to eat. You coming?”, 2nd Lt. Collins cheerily replied.

“Be along in a minute, have to change into some dry socks, grab my puttees, and wash my face.”

The two headed off in different directions, but would soon be sharing a quick breakfast and, with a bit of luck, a good day of flying.


.

#4452153 - 12/06/18 09:03 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training


4 Dec 1915

Finally off the ground. I was told to do circuit s after a battle climb to 1,000 ft. Bit Nerve racking had a hard time finding the Aerodrome not mention which way the wind was blowing. I say its was fun moving along at 70 miles an hour. By George even more so slanting down at nearly 100 mph. 2 nd flight just touch and go.s for a few, I guess to see if I could come down slower the a Rock.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-06 12-50-49-44.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 12/06/18 09:11 PM.
#4452198 - 12/07/18 01:59 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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77_Scout -- great start. Hope you get a good safe start despite the bad weather in December. Fullofit, don't forget you're in the final, working-up phase of training and the RGA serves as a pilot depot, so flying a G4 is not out of the question (although you'd likely spend more time on a G3 first so you could kill only yourself if so inclined). Lou, great story! I haven't caught up to 6 December yet because I'm on the road again. But the following story brings me up to date with my flights so far...

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins
Part Four: In which I become overly confident, come close to disaster, and get brought down to earth again.


4 December was the first half-decent weather since our arrival. Although the sky was hazy, patches of sun broke through from time to time and the long stocking-like wind indicator, which Mr. Thomas called an FL for no reason I understood, hung limp on the pole beside the hangars.

“Show me five circuits, just like yesterday,” Thomas said. Drop in as close to the near end of the field as you can, come to a stop, and wait for my signal before taking off again.” It was a simple task. The BE2 was a lovely docile old cow and I was feeling rather competent. The whole task was done in less than a half-hour. By now, I was getting a bit cocky and was stalling the machine within feet of the high grass at the edge of the field so that the wheels and tail touched down at the same time. After the last circuit, I taxied up to the hangar, shut down, and thanked the sergeant mechanic who cheerily complimented the landings. All in all, I was feeling very full of myself.

An afternoon of lectures on technical subjects followed, one of which was splendidly taught and the other two of which were unintelligible due to the impediments affecting the instructor. A fellow pilot suggested the man was made a lecturer because he couldn’t cook soup.

Rain returned the next day, but it was judged flyable. I was to take the machine higher, do a circuit, land, and then take a very wide hour-long circuit of the surrounding area. I’d never flown in winds as strong as we had this day, and on take-off I found that it required full rudder to prevent the machine from turning downwind on the ground, followed by a bank into the wind upon leaving the ground. As I climbed to the west, the gusts repeated threatened to cause a stall. It took more that ten minutes to reach four thousand feet. I’d intended to circle to the south and look for Stonehenge, but I was too busy watching the angle of the nose to be concerned with the terrain below.

Cutting the circuit a bit short, I throttled back and angled down to the east side of the field. By now it was becoming routine: over the copse, over the telephone wires, over the hill, and a quick drop down to the field. But this time the gusts forced me to fly the machine down rather than ease it. Once the crest of the hill passed beneath, I cut the engine fully and let the aircraft settle. Suddenly, a gust hit me from the south and west and the machine swerved and climbed to the right, shuddered, and hung on the edge of a stall. I opened the throttle fully. The engine hesitated. I cursed, realising I had failed to enrich the mixture and quickly made the adjustment. Like a child’s kite, the BE bobbed in the air, making no headway relative to the ground. And just ahead lay the line of hangars and three machines that were staked down and surrounded by Ack Emmas! I’d swerved off the field. Full rudder now and nose down. The machine hit the ground and bounced. I throttled back and let it slow, swerving to the right to straighten out the landing. As soon as the speed dropped, I pulled the stick back into my stomach and prayed the skid would soon dig in.

I looked over and saw Thomas, pipe in teeth, making the sign of the cross. He gave me a thumbs up signal and pointed at the far end of the field. I opened up again and headed back into the grey sky and freezing wing. This time I turned north and made a wide circle north to Pewsey, east to Andover, and south to Salisbury. I was to stay up at least an hour at six thousand. The cold cut through more than I’d ever seen. I had on the new underwear, but I now wished I’d bought one of the knit spencers I’d seen at the kit store in town. The minutes passed with agonising slowness. With less than ten minutes to go I was turning north over the fringes of Salisbury and was down to 2500 feet when a loud bang startled me and the engine began to sound like dozen steam hammers in a closed shop. Something looked odd up front. After a few seconds I saw that second nearest of the right-hand bank of cylinder was not quite right. The cylinder head was bent upward like a cap on a stovepipe and obviously at least two and likely three of the long bolts had sheared. I switched off and began looking for a place to put down – something I should have been doing all along. The fields were crossed with fences or stone dykes or dotted with trees. The road leading north from Salisbury, the one we’d driven along in the OC’s Crossley, was flanked by trees or wires. I was down to one thousand feet and quickly running out of time.

I saw to the west a wide, empty road and turned towards it, but immediately realised that he wind would prevent me reaching it safely. There was no time left, so I turned north again and headed for a green field. The grass looked higher than I’d have liked and there was a line of tall trees at its near edge. It was touch and go.

The line of trees passed inches below my wheels and the BE flopped into the grass. With the stick pulled back the tail stayed down and it slowed quickly. A fence loomed up but I stopped well short. Relief came like a warm bath. Rain pattered on the planes and I inhaled the smell of wet earth and vegetation. It was several minutes before I climbed down. The tree row I’d glided over was surprisingly close, but at least it sheltered the machine from the wind. There were some soldiers on the road to the east. I headed towards them to recruit a guard while I found somewhere to phone the airfield camp.

A tender and recovery team arrived a few hours later. The field was too small to fly out of, so they had to dismantle the machine and truck it back. I walked to the road and began to plod north. After about a half-hour, another tender picked me up, and I got back just in time for tea. I found a letter from Dorothy and Mummy and another from Mr. McCready. According to McCready, more communities in Ontario were going dry, and the was increasing political support for complete prohibition and the Hearst government was likely to pass a temperance act. He recommended that we develop a brand of “medicinal” whiskey to avoid a disaster. I wrote to him that the brand need not be substantially different in formulation from Collins Yukon Gold. A new label might suffice. I added that it might be possible to set up a US distribution company in Buffalo, as production for the export market may be allowed.

#4452273 - 12/07/18 04:39 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Good stories all

#4452304 - 12/07/18 08:04 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training


Dec 5th, was up twice as the weather was closing in looks like heavy rain. 1st was circuits and touch and go's. Then up for 22 mins and stalled. I was trying to climb to 3000ft but the wind was blowing hard and I stalled out. I was pushed into a wing over going the other direction. Frightful experience. I stayed in the air another 40 min fighting the wind and light rain looking for the Aero park, Finally able to get down. Maybe being in the Infantry wasn't so bad after all ?

Dec 6, Rain.

Last edited by carrick58; 12/07/18 08:08 PM.
#4452320 - 12/07/18 09:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Yes some good stories here and that last one Raine was very immersive. Some great period terminology and phrasing made me feel I was actually reading a diary.

Best Regards


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#4452343 - 12/08/18 12:29 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Looks like everyone is battling the weather. Raine, that last entry made me sweat!

5-6 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

“Fly some circuits near the aerodrome at 1000 m. Land and do it all over again at 2000 m for 1 to 2 hours.” they said. “Simple enough!” Gaston was in a good mood. The bottle of red wine he procured last night had something to do with it. There were no clear signs of weather improvement in the skies above. The heavy rain clouds would be Gaston’s companions for the next few flights, it would seem. The Caudron was prepared and waiting for him ready for the next test. He strapped himself in. Engine 2 RPMs were a tad lower than #1 but nothing to be concerned about. The large biplane had no issues climbing up to 1000 m despite the reports of strong winds. Gaston circled the aerodrome for 15 minutes and started his descent for the first landing. Everything went smoothly and now he was climbing back again, this time up to the prescribed 2000 m altitude. Once he reached 1800 m the machine refused to climb any higher. It was as if the plane was anchored to the ground. Gaston reduced the incline angle nearly to zero to see if that would help. The lumbering crate started to slowly gain altitude. Finally, when the 2000 mark was reached Gaston found himself rather fatigued from fighting the wind gusts and with great pleasure and relief started his descent and landing procedure.
The next day the circling exercise had to be repeated but with a climb up to 3000 m! Why would anyone ever need to fly this high? The cloud cover was much lower today, so it was certain Gaston would have to navigate between these fluffy giants. Thankfully the wind wasn’t a factor today and Gaston was able to reach altitude without too much trouble. Trouble started when he had to fly above the clouds and the aerodrome was hidden from view for some time. Nothing looked familiar when he was able to glimpse parts of the ground through the gaps. He finally decided to drop beneath the clouds to get his bearings. The clouds were as low as 1600 m and with him having to drop below them, it was a significant departure. He was afraid the instructors would make him do the entire exercise again. He climbed again after recognizing some features. Paris is to the south of the aerodrome. He could see the sprawling city far in the distance. That was as much direction as he would need. Back in the clouds to complete the full hour before coming back for a landing. Once the time was up he dropped below the clouds once more to line up for a landing. He looked around. The aerodrome was nowhere to be found. Paris was nowhere in sight. “Zut alors!” Gaston was lost. When looking at the map he remembered there was a forest north of the aerodrome. He was flying over one right now. Was this the forest he remembered from the map? Only one way to find out. He pointed the nose of the aircraft south and waited. And waited. Finally! There it was - outskirts of Paris, just ahead. Gaston breathed a sigh of relief. He found his way back! From there on it was easy to locate the field. He landed at once and promised himself to carry a map with himself on every flight. No matter how insignificant. And with the next lesson being a cross country dash it only made sense.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files IMG_0975.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."
#4452349 - 12/08/18 01:25 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Gents,
I dare say you all have raised the bar a considerable height! I just caught up with everyone’s pilot and to say I am impressed with the stories is an understatement. Fantastic!

As I am currently busy with my full time job of retirement, I will be joining you in France in January. This country boy will have a hard time keeping up with you folks.


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!
#4452377 - 12/08/18 10:11 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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The bar has been set so high that it feels almost intimidating to post anything here among all the DID Hemingways. biggrin


"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
#4452386 - 12/08/18 01:41 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

Hasse, in my case it's spelled "Hemingweigh", what with the winter pounds I've put on these last couple of months. Also, and this applies to you as well Mark, neither of you has ever had a problem holding your own when it comes to writing.

Fullofit, I feel Gaston's pain as concerns getting lost, been there more times in this sim than I care to think about, and with or without maps too. Nice old photo by the way.

Robert, I hope we'll be seeing an entry from your pilot soon.

Carrick, good to see that Nigel has been managing at least some flying time despite the poor weather. That wind has been something, my pilot was nearly standing still in the air on one of his last flights as he pushed against the wind with a B.E.2. Despite full throttle his forward air speed was barely above stall speed. Unnerving, a bit.

Raine, very glad Jim was able to bring his bus down unscathed in that dead stick landing. Any landing you can walk away from, eh what. As for the medicinal qualities of Collins Yukon Gold Whiskey, I don't think there is any doubt of those.

Great stuff as always gents, most enjoyable.

.


#4452406 - 12/08/18 03:05 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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I consider myself Lemmingway - following in the footsteps of the greats but too insignificant on my own.
Lou, I have a feeling navigation is going to be Gaston’s undoing. Despite some recent posts that cheating is ok, I’m going the other way. No TAC, no autopilot, no inflight map (paper only - shaking it vigorously to simulate wind buffeting). All a first for me. The challenge for me (or fun), will be to get to the right location as much as the ability to run away from the enemy.


"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."
#4452447 - 12/08/18 09:11 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Mark Anthony Jericho
December, 1915

Jericho stepped out of the Lorry at his new home at Netheravon. It was a long way from Tupelo Mississippi in the United States. "Circumstances." That had been Jericho's reply to the question whenever he was asked. Tupelo, Texas, Canada and now to this place in England. At 23 he was a bit older than most of the young men in his classes. He did not look it though. In fact, he looked no older than anyone else in the crowd. He was not particularly tall at 5'-11'' but after 5 years as a cowhand in Texas he was as agile as a cat and almost as quick. His calm demeanor and quiet way belayed a quick temper that was just below the surface.

As he pulled the collar of his coat around his neck from the chill of the English winter he heard someone call his name. As he turned around he saw his old acquaintance's from Long Branch, James Collins and Swany Swanson.

"I thought you would be in France by now? Where have you been." James asked him.

As Jericho shook their hands he replied. "Good to see you fellows. Well, it seems my papers got crossed up and found myself at a place called Upavon. Worst bunch of would be airmen you ever saw. It didn't take them long to run short of machines as they were all the time busting them up."

"So what are you doing here?" Swany asked in his northern accent that Jericho still could not beleive was American.

"Well, the Captain and I there got along peach as he was a horseman. He and I talked horses as much as was allowed so he made a deal with me. He said that since it would be a while until enough machines would be available to get along with our training he would send me here to complete my training so as not to hold me up. As long as I didn't mess things up and make him look bad that is. I thought that was awful good of the Captain". "Can you tell me who I need to check in with?" he asked.

"That would be Sergeant-Major Brookings, he's standing there." Swany replied as he pointed to the man.

"Thank you Swany" Jericho replied as he lifted his kit. "I'll see you gentlemen later" and with that Jericho walked off to see the Sergeant-Major.

Swany and Jim stood looking at Jericho walk away when Jim said, "I would not have thought it possible."

"What? That he is here at Nerheravon?" Swany asked.

"No" replied Jim. "that he could talk that much!" They both laughed as they headed to the next class.


Last edited by MFair; 12/08/18 09:25 PM. Reason: Spelling

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!
#4452459 - 12/08/18 10:57 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nice opening, MFair! I'm looking forward to this.

#4452464 - 12/08/18 11:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Great stories everyone. I have been much enjoying reading them on my work breaks.

Here is the opening installment of my pilot's story. William Arthur George Stanley is ready to take to the skies.

I had a bit of trouble getting him started. For some reason, a pilot in 16 squadron cannot fly in early December without causing a DLL crash. I reinstalled WOFF before I worked out it was that specific. Stanley is flying in game on the earliest available day where he can fly, the 21st of December. But I am considering his progress to be at roughly the same pace as everyone else's.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

[Linked Image]

The barking of the training sergeant carried far over the racecourse in the cold damp air. The wooden collisades of the grand stand stood empty, but men in khaki marched up and down the course, trampling the turf into a muddy mess. Here and there, men undergoing instruction in various aspects of military life huddled in groups against the cold. Between the road and the stands, in sheds and stables that had until recently supported the sport of kings, men became accustomed to the mechanisms of modern war.

 In one of the administration offices, William Stanley reported for duty.

 Captain Anne looked up and smiled at the student pilot that had been brought before his desk by a helpful orderly.
"Ah, welcome to Doncaster second..." the adjutant peered at the officer's buttons, "lieutenant. Household Cavalry I see?"
"Yes sir," Stanley replied, "the Blues."
"Good! Good balance is what is needed in an aeroplane, and a cavalry officer is well practised in that function. You shan't be expected to bed down in a stable here. Officers are billeted in the big house opposite the main entrance.  You can't miss it.  Happily the mess is there as well."

The adjutant consulted a list and scribbled a note, which he handed to Stanley. "This is your room. Report to 'C' shed on the aerodrome at 0800 hours dressed to fly."



[Linked Image]

The next morning found Stanley waiting in front of a wooden hangar with a dozen other pilots. Like Stanley's, their wings were freshly stitched onto their tunics. One or two wore their yellow flying coats open to display the magical badge. It was shortly before dawn that Stanley arrived on the aerodrome and the weather had been deemed good enough by Captain Moller, one of the instructors.

[Linked Image]

15 (reserve) squadron had a few of the shorthorns that Stanley had soloed on, not three weeks before. The majority of the aeroplanes were a tractor type biplane called an Armstrong Whitworth FK3. It was an attempt at improving on the Royal Aircraft Factory's BE2, but had turned out so similar that most people would have assumed that they were looking at two aircraft of the same type. There were a few BE2s as well, and it was in one of these that Captain Moller took Stanley up.

"Nothing fancy," Moller had told his pupil before climbing into the cockpit. "Take off, make a circuit to the north. Don't fly over the town. I don't want you having an engine failure and making an unannounced visit to some poor lady's garden. Take us up to one thousand feet and make a good descent and landing. You've got your wings, so show me that you deserve them."


The BE2 climbed far more quickly than the gentle shorthorns that Stanley had been flying. As the hangars on his left dropped away, Stanley saw the pointed end of the teardrop shaped racecourse behind them. This was where the stands clustered along the Great North road. White dots inside the circuit showed where soldiers were being trained in setting up tents in a proper military fashion.

The wind wobbled the wings of the climbing BE gently as they reached the target altitude. The dark brick terraces of Doncaster stretched away to the left and Stanley turned right, and north, mindful of Moller's instruction. Moller, sat in the rear cockpit, watched his movements with silent judgement. North of the aerodrome was open countryside and Stanley flew over dark winter fields under a grey sky. Now slowly descending with the engine ticking at idle.

On the approach to the aerodrome, Stanley saw a copse startlingly close to his left wing. He dipped the right wing to veer away from them before levelling out and making a good, if fast landing. The tail skid bounced slightly before settling and dragging the BE2 to a stop.

After taxiing over to the hangars, Moller helped Stanley down from the front cockpit.

"A good start, Second Lieutenant. A lot of pilots are taught to hold the wings level and turn solely with rudder. Either you weren't taught that or you ignored your instructors." The ruddy faced Captain leered at him, "don't you dare ignore me, by the way. If you had turned with the rudder, we would have skidded into those trees. So well done on the banking turn."

Stanley beamed with pride.

"It would have been better if you had been looking where you were going. Those bloody trees are well off the proper approach." Moller continued. "Go and find something to eat, and then report back here. If the weather stays clement we may have you up again after lunch."

#4452477 - 12/09/18 01:53 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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MFair and Maeran, welcome to the fray! Good to have you onboard.

7 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

With the newly acquired map of Marne region securely in his pocket, Gaston was sitting at the controls of the Caudron flying east. The instructions were to fly for an hour, land and take off and return back home. He was sitting hunched over the map last night with a generous glass of Le Pinard, planning his route. The map was prepared by Monsieur Louvert et Fils Co. and was exactly what Gaston needed. All the roads, railroad tracks, cities, forests, rivers and other landmarks were carefully plotted in great detail. It was simply magnificent. It had the added bonus of the locations of all Entente and all known enemy aerodromes and the extents of the battlefront lines, current as of printing.
“Let’s see...” Gaston thought to himself looking at the scale in the bottom left corner. “The grid looks to be calibrated to about 15 km apart. If my Caudron flies at an average speed of 120km/h then I should cover ... (counts in his head and on his fingers) ... ... ... 8 squares!” He traced his finger 8 grid lines east of Le Bourget and stopped on Epernay. “Hmmm, this looks like a nice spot for a picnic.” He had his destination, now for the difficult part: plotting the route. He examined the map again and noticed that the path to the destination is dotted nearly in a straight line by a series of wooded areas. “That’s it! I’ll simply bunny hop from one forest to the next until I hit Epernay. Oh la la! I need to choose my words more carefully.”
He was now approaching the first wooded area. There was a satisfying grin forming under his moustache, which immediately turned into frown. A slight miscalculation on Gaston’s part. The ground fog blanketed the entire surface making it impossible to see the next wooded area. Gaston simply could not “connect the dots”, that figured so prominently on his map. He quickly formulated a backup plan. Follow the roads. Why hasn’t he started with this plan in the first place? Because the roads don’t go there directly in a straight line, instead they turn and twist, which makes following them that much more difficult. Gaston turned south until he met a road that ran in the east-west direction and started to follow it. He soon found out that flying above the road wasn’t the best way to go about it, as his forward visibility was very limited by the wings, the 2 engine nacelles and the forward cockpit with the observer, his forward view was next to nonexistent. He pretty much had to navigate based on the ground he’s already covered, as the unobstructed view was to the rear and partially to the sides. He flew along rivers and railway tracks as much as the roads. Anything that was running perpendicular to his flight path served as distance markers indicating how far he had progressed along his journey, promptly checked against his map. This and the clock ticking on the dashboard. For Gaston it was not really telling the time, but counting down the minutes to his destination. The time seemed to move twice as fast as normal with the vigilant observation of the road and waiting for the landmarks to slip by. It was nearly time to make the scheduled landing when Gaston noticed the sprawling Foret de la Charmoye, just east of Epernay. He was nearly there and on time! Gaston’s excitement grew with each mile closer to the city. He was amazed how trouble-free the entire voyage had been. He was ready to land when he noticed an aerodrome south of Epernay. It had to be Villeneuve-les-Vertus. He decided to circle it before landing on the nearby road and be on his way back home. He made a low level pass over the field and waved to the men running out of the sheds and hangars to see what the whole ruckus was all about. He made one more circuit and turned south towards the road to land. Too bad he wasn’t allowed to land at the aerodrome as the fog was thicker in these parts. He made his descent, checked that the road was clear of any traffic and lined up for the landing. 100 m ... 50 m ... 10 m ... CRACK!


"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."
#4452509 - 12/09/18 01:09 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ah yes, more excellent reading to go with my morning cuppa. Much appreciated.

Mark, it’s great to see your pilot has made his appearance here. Wonderful introduction.

Maeran, your fellow has arrived as well, outstanding. Odd about the CTD but glad you came up with a work-around.

Fullofit, “Monsieur Louvert et Fils Co.”, that one made me laugh out loud. But what was the crack sound? Is Gaston alright? Did he have a wreck? Oh the anticipation of it all!

.

#4452538 - 12/09/18 04:50 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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This early in the campaign and we already have our first cliff hanger! Nice story Fullofit.


Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end.
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#4452539 - 12/09/18 04:50 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Absolutely love how the Netheravon mob's characters are all directly interconnected! Very, very cool stuff, and I can't wait to see how the connection plays out in France! Speaking of France, what has that crazy Gaston fellow done?! I hope Monsieur isn't injured!

Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 9th, 1915.


It appears that the storm on the 6th was to be the last recent excitement to be had, for over the past few days we have all been subjected to an unbearable tedium.

The B.E.2 that had been upturned by the wind has been written off. As the men couldn't upturn the machine until the storm had passed, merely lashing it down in place, the engine was quickly waterlogged in the downpour, and the drenched canvas became so heavy in places that it led to the eventual snapping of a spar in at the lower port-side wing root, causing the entire wing to warp, its tip touching the upper planes. And so, it came to be that we had only one training machine left to share between nine of us (save for the old Boxkite, but there was nothing left to learn on such a basic craft). Naturally, this meant that our flying time became very limited, with long stretches of empty conversations and half-hearted card games of 'Rummy' and 'Beggar my Neighbour' (neither of which I knew how to play, so that option was closed to me). The effect was mind-numbing dreariness, in which only two pilots were able to go up in the B.E. for training exercises a day. To make matters worse, Cpt. Andrews had revoked our right to take trips into London! According to him, there's a "thousand things to learn, even out of the cockpit, so get your heads in the damned instruction manuals, you devils, and no more of these bloody excursions!".

On the 8th, Freddy had tried to arrange us into two teams, for a game of rugby. Of course, we had no ball, but a kit-bag stuffed with mines and Freddy's tunic was a fitting substitute. We all eagerly lined up as the two de-facto team captains (Freddy and a fellow I've not yet mentioned, named Albert Chapman) picked out their players. At first, we thought we'd found a way to beat the boredom, but this soon came to an end after a particularly boisterous tackle by Freddy on poor old Moore knocked the wind right out of him, causing the competition to abruptly cease. Our Kiwi doesn't know his own strength! He was awfully apologetic, and Moore bids him no ill-will over the incident.

Being cast back into the merciless boredom, we took to watching the two active R.F.C squadrons, No. 15 and No. 24, going about their training exercises, as well as analysing with a critical eye to rival Andrews' our fellow trainees, when the two lucky fellows were picked to fly. My favourites to watch were the De Havilland scouts of No. 24, which were capable of performing all manner of weird stunts and tricks. Earlier this morning, I had watched in amazement as their C.O, the famous Lanoe Hawker, who had won a Victoria Cross in France (A V.C - for an airman!), took up a DeHav and proceeded to demonstrate a series of spins and recoveries to his pilots. I had desperately wanted to fly after seeing this display, but sadly for me, our lucky two trainees for the day were Teddie Lawson and Hugo Lane.

Our lunch in the Barracks mess was interrupted by the appearance of Cpt. Andrews (who has been in a continuously foul mood ever since the loss of our second B.E.). At first, we expected to be scorned for some small thing or other, but for once the 'Hellhound of Hounslow' had brought us good news! Andrews had gotten off the phone with Hendon's Adjutant, having arranged to collect two brand-new B.E.2s! It was only a short drive, and we should have our machines by the end of the day. Losing our heads, we all cheered the Captain who, in embarrassed surprise, roared back at us to "Be quiet, you rowdy lot!".

Doyle Weston and Jacky-boy (our affectionate recently-given nickname for Jack Fisher) were ordered to go by car to Hendon and ferry the new machines back. We all watched with an envious eye as they got up and practically ran to the barracks door, literally jumping at the chance to alleviate the boredom. As he exited, that cheeky sod Jacky-boy turned and winked at us! After another brief stint of boredom, we heard the B.E's arriving at about Two O'Clock, and all bundled outside with critical eyes to assess their landings. Jacky-boy, of course, performed a perfect three-pointer. Weston's was not as aesthetically pleasing, but did the job. A gaggle of mechanics quickly appeared to roll our new machines into their hangars, and our excitement was done for the day.

Before turning in for the night, we checked the roster. Ah, relief! We were all to fly tomorrow! And, wait, what's this? Freddy, Jacky-boy and I were to fly an hour-long solo flight each! I relished the mere thought of a full hour to myself in the air, and retired to my bunk knowing full-well that I would be too excited to sleep.

[Linked Image]
Flight Instructor Cpt. Richard Andrews, the 'Hellhound of Hounslow']

Last edited by Wulfe; 12/10/18 12:27 AM.
#4452548 - 12/09/18 05:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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we gota wright a book and sell it...to finance WOFF+mods


make mistakes and learn from them

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#4452574 - 12/09/18 10:16 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

8 Dec


The chaps and I cut cards to see who would give her a go in a clear spot of the weather. The Instructor said take up to 2000 Meters and get a'bot 60 mins flight time. No problem till I was up at 760 meters then then best she would climb was in steps. A few to many feet, she would shutter on a Stall so level out gain speed and Repeat. I finally reached 2000 , but it took me about 50 mins as I was afraid of Stalling into a Tail Spin. Upon landing I found that I had been up for 106 mins. In addition , I found a small Hole in / rip in my elevator. It must have happened when I spit out some gum that I was chewing to help stay warm. It must have froze at that height and acted like a small bullet causing the hole and small rip in the fabric.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-09 13-36-07-55.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 12/09/18 10:16 PM.
#4452643 - 12/10/18 01:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, good thing Cpt. Andrews has his head screwed on right. Hurray for the new machines.
Gentlemen, thank you for all the concern regarding Gaston’s wellbeing. I’ll try to post a new instalment of his adventures in the evening.


"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."
#4452659 - 12/10/18 02:53 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

Carrick, your man best watch what he does with his chewing gum in the future. Perhaps he could use it as a new weapon the first time he is chased by a Hun, with any luck he could put the frozen wad right through his attacker's windscreen.

Wulfe, glad to see some new machines have arrived and Graham's training can get back on schedule. Now let's hope the weather cooperates.

Swany was up for nearly two hours yesterday doing his fly out and landing at a spot other than an aerodrome, then returning to camp. It went without incident other than a surprised horse who watched as Swany landed on the road next to the animal's pasture only to take off again brief minutes later. Swany was very pleased with how it went. It is unknown what the horse thought.

.

#4452684 - 12/10/18 04:16 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou, perhaps you should get off your high horse and ask the poor mare how she feels about it? I suppose it’s too late now. No need to shut the barn door after the horse has bolted.
deadhorse
I’m glad Swany stopped horsing around and had been given free reins to go where he pleases. No complaints from him I hope? He shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. biggrin


"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."
#4452690 - 12/10/18 04:46 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Relevant to my next instalment (not today) and also now it seems smile

#4452710 - 12/10/18 05:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Maeran, you’re putting the cart before the horse!
Sounds like a challenge to get a horse into your story. I know mine will have a dumb friend, or two in it!


"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."
#4452731 - 12/10/18 08:14 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Fullofit]  
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O
Originally Posted by Fullofit
Maeran, you’re putting the cart before the horse!
Sounds like a challenge to get a horse into your story. I know mine will have a dumb friend, or two in it!


Or to put it in classical terms, Maeran, you're putting Descartes before Horace...

banghead

#4452732 - 12/10/18 08:16 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Just my thoughts on the subject. Some horses are smarter than others but I say any animal that out weighs you 5 times and could stomp you into a bloody hole in the ground whenever he chooses but instead allows you to be it’s master ain’t very smart. But I guess wives could say the same about husbands!


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!
#4452751 - 12/10/18 09:57 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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I thought that I Horsed Around a Lot. Lets Saddle up and get on down the Trail.

#4452753 - 12/10/18 10:04 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: carrick58]  
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Originally Posted by Raine
Or to put it in classical terms, Maeran, you're putting Descartes before Horace...


Raine, what classical period is that? 1914?

Originally Posted by MFair
Just my thoughts on the subject. Some horses are smarter than others but I say any animal that out weighs you 5 times and could stomp you into a bloody hole in the ground whenever he chooses but instead allows you to be it’s master ain’t very smart. But I guess wives could say the same about husbands!


Ain't that the truth, MFair!

Originally Posted by carrick58
I thought that I Horsed Around a Lot. Lets Saddle up and get on down the Trail.

rofl


9 December, 1915
Villeneuve-les-Vertus
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

-“Vous etes un idiot, Sergent Voscadeaux!” The voice on the other side of the telephone was livid.
-“Oui, mon Capitaine.” Gaston agreed, while holding a wet towel to his temple and watching his damaged Caudron being wheeled onto the Villeneuve-les-Vertus aerodrome by a two-horse* drawn wagon. He was speaking from the office of the airfield he had overflown earlier that morning.
-“I don’t care that you are alright.” the angry voice on the telephone continued “I care about the expensive aeroplane you’ve damaged during your clumsy landing. I care that it will take 2 days to repair the undercarriage of the said aeroplane that you crashed into the ditch. I care that no one else will be able to use it during this time. Who let you fly all the way to Epernay in the first place? If you were here I would ground you for two days. Get your butt back to Le Bourget tout de suite! Is that understood?”
-“Oui, mon Capitaine! Immediately!” He hung the earpiece on the hook of the telephone set.
Gaston will have to spend the next 2 days here waiting for the repairs to his Caudron. 2 days!
The name of the mechanic that took care of his Caudron was Jacques Gusteau but everyone there just called him Le Pou (Louse), because he kept on scratching himself all the time. Gaston was itching just from looking and he spent all of his time with Le Pou, who doubled and tripled to get the Caudron back into shape. Both propellers needed replacing and the right side wheel needed to be straightened. Gaston helped with the rips and tears in the canvas. The machine was ready by the end of the second day. On 9 December, with the sun up, Gaston started the engine, then the other one. #2 was still running at reduced RPMs. He would have to speak with the mechanics when he got back. He let the rotaries warm up a bit, checked all control surfaces, said a quiet prayer and gave the signal to let go to the men holding the crate in place. It lounged forward, rolled for a while and was up in the air and climbing. The weather was perfect for flying. Beautiful, blue sky, slight breeze and not a care in the world. Gaston was on his way back, keeping the sun in his rear quarter and checking the map only occasionally. He knew his way back home by now. The flight took another short hour and he landed just in time for second breakfast. Understandably he wasn’t very popular with the rest of the pilots, who were robbed of the opportunity to fly this Caudron during the past 2 days, setting everyone back. From now on, he would be the last one to get to fly it, after everyone else had their turn.

[Linked Image]

* No horses were harmed in making of this post.

Attached Files Crash.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."
#4452757 - 12/10/18 10:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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I agree with lederhosen, there is a novel in these stories! I will get in touch with Peter Jackson pronto and see if we can get a movie deal also. Fantastic stories Gents!

Mark A. Jericho
December
England

Jim Collins and Jericho stood near the BE that was being warmed up. Jericho had been assigned to Lieutenant Thomas as his instructor was absent for the day. " I don't care what your lovely Captain at Upavon says, you will have to show me you can fly this machine before you do any cross country flying. Is that clear?" Thomas asked.

"Clear" Jericho replied.

"Now do a few rounds of the field and set her down." Thomas directed.

Jericho climbed into the old bus, waved away the chocks and bounded down the field. Pulling back on the stick the BE slowly climbed into the sky. It was a beautiful day with only a few clouds and little wind. When he knew all was well Jericho put the machine into a slow climb to the right. One thousand ft., two thousand ft. and still higher he climbed.

On the ground, Thomas and Collins watched as the BE went higher and higher. After 20 minuets Thomas spoke more to himself than anyone else, "What is the fool doing? He must be above 5000 ft.! At that moment, the drone of the engine above sputtered and died.

"Boody Hell!" Thomas exclaimed as he took the pipe out of his mouth.

"His engine has gone dud! Maybe he can restart it!" Collins joined in.

They both kept their eyes on the plane as it started a slow spiral back to earth.

Jericho was directly over the field. He kept the field off the right wingtip as he slowly spiraled down. Four thousand, three thousand, two thousand.

Thomas and Collins were holding their breath expecting the worst.

At one thousand ft. Jericho straightened her out headed away from the field then put the nose down and turned to the field for a landing. Coming in a little fast he expertly side slipped the machine and put her on the straight and narrow just before touchdown coming to a stop in the middle of the field.

Thomas and Collins were at the machine as soon as it stopped. "What happened?!" Thomas asked.

"Nothing" Jericho replied as he climbed out of the machine.

"Nothing!" Thomas shouted. "What happened to your bloody engine?

"Nothing. I switched her off." Jericho replied.

Thomas pointed at Jericho with his pipe. "I tell you to do a few rounds and set her down and you go to 6000' and switch off your bloody engine! What in god's name for!" He was livid

Jericho pulled off his flying cap and goggles, stood as straight as an arrow and with an oil stained grin said. "A few rounds is a bit subjective, maybe I did more than a few and at Uptavon a dead stick landing is up next so I figured we would just kill two birds with one stone.....So to speak.....Mr Thomas.

Thomas took a long turn on his pipe and slowly blew the smoke into the crisp air. Not taking his eyes off Jericho he said, "Your up next Collins!"


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!
#4452759 - 12/10/18 10:45 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit, close call there! I’m glad Gaston got away with nothing but a bump on the head. I was wondering if we would lose any pilots during training. Law of averages and such. I hope not.


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!
#4452771 - 12/11/18 12:11 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, you’re making me jealous that my guy isn’t closer to the city! 77_Scout, your photo of Euston reminds me of taking the train from there to Cambridge back in 1970! It hadn’t changed. Lou, you realise, of course, that only Commies go jogging before breakfast? Fulllofit, I’m really enjoying Gaston. He’s a man after my own heart (I’m in a hotel tonight and there’s a 50% off sale on wine in the restaurant, so one needs a bottle of Pinot with one’s burger, wot?). Great cliffhanger, but I’m glad to see all is well. MFair, I am really looking forward to see Jericho react to darkest Europe! Maeran, absolutely delighted to have you in the campaign! Well done on WAGS in slipping into the field on that circuit. Carrick, what Yank did you get the gum from????

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins

Part Five: In which I tour the countryside and am treated by a generous Canadian.

Mark Jericho, our cowboy trainee from Long Branch, showed up at Netheravon yesterday afternoon. We chatted for a minute on the field and then, later in the mess, I discovered that the man is temperate, which is as close to an atheist as a Bible-thumping cowpuncher can possibly get. Still, he’ll be great fun to tease, I figured. He took the empty spot in our hut and it was like Old Home Week in Netheravon!

6 December began as a lovely day. Swaney was first up and polished off his circuits without drama. I was next. Thomas insisted I repeat my task from yesterday, despite my protest that I’d been less than ten minutes short of touchdown and had proved my ability to land by downing my crippled bus in a field the size of a tennis court. I took over shortly after eight, climbed south to Salisbury, and looped west until I turned back to the aerodrome and touched down at the very edge of the field. Taking off again, I did a wide loop of Wiltshire and settle back in neatly.

Later in the morning, I did another loop of the area, this time climbing to 10,000 feet. The BE2 struggled a bit above 8,000 feet. On this second flight, the clouds grew thicker and threatened a continuation of the stormy weather that had plagued much of December to date. Still, I was able to see the ground from time to time and could not help noticing the incredible military activity across the local countryside. There were fields with spiderweb-like tracings of trenches, and convoys of lorries threw up dust storms despite the wet earth. Even from 10,000 feet up, one could see formations of cavalry on manoeuvre in the fields and lanes.

I’d never climbed this high before and found it bothered me. I had a splitting headache until after dinner that night.

Swaney had a good flight and Jericho did a dead-stick landing that drove Thomas apoplectic, since he didn’t realise it was intentional.

Several of the fellows were heading to town after dinner and Swany, Jericho, and I joined them. In Salisbury, we found a public house called the Red Lion, and encountered a group of Canadian officers who were, to a man, quite drunk. A few of the fellows sat with us and one chap, Stanley Something by name, passed out at the table with a fistful of 10 shillling notes in his hand. Jericho swore that the fellow promised to stand rounds before falling asleep, so Swaney and I ordered bitter while Jericho ordered coffee and cakes, and a good and cheap night was had by all. Before leaving, we wrote Stanley a thank-you note and left him our calling cards in the event we ever meet in France. If we all live, I should be glad to repay the fellow.

[Linked Image]
"In Salisbury, we found a public house called the Red Lion..."

Attached Files Red-Lion-Hotel-Salisbury-Old-Postcard-B349.jpg
#4452787 - 12/11/18 01:49 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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This is just getting better and better. Good stuff MFair. Jericho is going to show them all a thing or two about flying.
Raine, stealing from a sleeping Canadian? That’s unheard of!


"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."
#4452788 - 12/11/18 01:54 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Fullofit]  
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Originally Posted by Fullofit
Raine, stealing from a sleeping Canadian? That’s unheard of!


But the Canada Revenue Agency does it with monotonous regularity!

#4452789 - 12/11/18 02:01 AM 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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Fullofit  Online Content
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Ajax, ON
winkngrin


"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."
#4452857 - 12/11/18 02:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
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RAF_Louvert Offline
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

Raine, now THAT’S funny! Also, another spiffing episode to the story, the takeaway to which apparently being, best to let sleeping Canadians lie.

MFair, a most enjoyable read. Jericho is clearly going to be a force to be reckoned with. Well done.

Fullofit, Gaston had quite the wreck there. No wonder he is not currently the flavor of the month with his fellow aviateurs.

We seem to have a definite horse theme going here at the moment, along with the bad puns. By the way, love the poster, Maeran. And to add to said equine theme just a bit more, here is Swany’s most recent adventure.

***************************

The day began crisp and bright and looked as if it would be another fine one for flying, albeit a cold one. 2nd Lt. Swanson had already been out for his morning run, after which he'd grabbed a quick breakfast washed down with an extra cup of hot tea, and was now seated in the cockpit of his assigned mount, a slightly scruffy B.E. that had been converted to a single-place trainer by the addition of ballast lashed into the front observer’s office and a makeshift cowling placed over it. Swany had been instructed to fly southeast to the aerodrome at Gosport, land, and return to camp. He gave his bus a final check then waved the signal for “chocks away” and off he went. Once in the air he made a turn towards the south and began his climb to 5,000’. When he saw Stonehenge off his right wingtip he made a slow, steady arc to the southeast. It was a beautiful morning to be in the air and Swany was filled with youthful exuberance as he plotted his course. He watched as the large woods east of Salisbury began to slide beneath him, then gave the altimeter a quick study; 4,600’, nearly there.

“Faen förbannade jävla!”, the Norsk flyer cursed out loud. It hadn’t been 20 minutes into his trip when suddenly the Renault V-8 gave out with a loud clank, stopping dead brief seconds later. There was no restarting it either as something down in the bowels of the engine had clearly come undone. Swany began searching about for a suitable makeshift landing spot. He was still over the woods but had good height, and as the B.E. was blessed with a very shallow glide rate he had time to assess his situation. He turned gently to the east as this would get him clear of the woods via the shortest path. He sized up a field that lay beyond his lower left plane and determined it to be a good candidate and began gliding his dead mount towards it. A short time later he was lining himself up along a fence line that ran west towards a small farm, touching down onto the field and rolling to a stop without further incident. Looking over towards the farm he saw a horse grazing, and unlike the one he had startled two days earlier this one showed no concern whatsoever about the uninvited guest. Swany climbed out of the B.E. and walked over to the house, giving the disinterested equine a pat behind the ear as he passed it. The beast responded by pulling its head away from Swany’s hand while giving a snort of apparent derision. The farmer who resided in the nearby house was far friendly and during the brief conversation with him the airman was told that, while there was no phone on the farm, he would find one he could use at the pub in West Tytherley not but half a mile up the road. The farmer further offered to keep an eye on his plane while he was away, though there was little chance of anyone fooling about with it where it was parked. Swany thanked the amiable fellow and headed off to make the call to camp.



Lifting off from Netheravon.
[Linked Image]

Passing over the woods east of Salisbury
[Linked Image]

Engine dead, looking for a place to set down.
[Linked Image]

Coming in along the fence line.
[Linked Image]

On the ground, safe and sound.
[Linked Image]

.

#4452872 - 12/11/18 05:56 PM 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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Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 11th, 1915.


I did not fly my hour-long circuit yesterday.

The weather had picked up slightly, and the winds were blowing at a higher speed than most felt comfortable taking off in. However, I was up to the challenge, and was ready at 0700, complete in full flying gear, to go up. As I waited for the mechanics to give my machine its final checks and wheel it out, I was kept entertained by watching a pilot of No. 24, practising spinning down in a D.H.2 as their C.O. had demonstrated. Buzzing with excitement, I watched as the pilot would spin down about 200 feet, recover, pull out in a swooping arc just over the tops of the hangars, and lazily climb back up again.

The nose of my B.E. begun to creep out from the hangars, as the No. 24 pilot straightened out at 1200 feet, flicked the rudder while lifting the nose, and promptly fell into another spin. I watched eagerly - for his past two spins I had been especially interested in attempting to see the control surfaces being manipulated in the air to fight the spin. However, something seemed wrong...the D.H.2 had just turned its seventh revolution in the spin...the pilot had consistently pulled out after six before. My excitement turned to concern, and then to horror as the pusher aeroplane spun all the way down, before crashing heavily just behind our hangar. Within seconds, pilots, mechanics, medics, were all running towards the crash, myself included. When I rounded the corner of the hangar, I was met with a grim sight. The D.H.2 had been converted into a crumpled mess of splintered wood, with no discernible shape left to it, save for the one upturned Starboard wing, which had remained somewhat intact. Several men rushed forwards, lifting the limp, bloody pilot out of the wreck and laying him down on the ground. His body looked twisted in a terrible, unnatural way, and he was clearly dead. Feeling faint, I staggered back, before turning away from the gruesome sight and lighting a cigarette with shaky hands. Almost instantly, the cigarette was snatched from my mouth and stubbed out. "Are you mad, man?!" an unfamiliar voice cried. "There's petrol everywhere, you fool!".

Sleep did not come easy that night - my mind presented me with rapidly-flowing images of the crash, then the body of the airman. Teddie and Albie Chapman had seen the smash as well, and were in a similar funk.

However, our training can't be halted on account of one death, and as the Hellhound has pointed out, we will be exposed to a lot more death in France. So, this morning I stood in the same spot, as the B.E.2 was wheeled out. Although this time there were no stunting D.H.2s over the hangars, I still stared at the skies.

When my B.E. was ready, I lethargically clambered into the cockpit, and started up the engine with one of the mechanics. As per usual before every training flight, Andrews appeared alongside my cockpit. "One hour in the air at 3,000 feet. Stay within eyeshot of the Heath". I nodded, pulling my goggles down, and pushed the throttle forwards. The machine obediently took me into the air, and I climbed out Westwards. Nervously, I checked my dashboard. To my dismay, the needle of the airspeed indicator was swinging wildly between 50 and 55 knots - the instrument was malfunctioning! This did nothing for my courage as I let out a shaky breath and gently rolled the machine North, heading again towards London.

Gradually, the memory of the fallen D.H.2 left me, and I relaxed into enjoying the sensation of flight. It was shockingly cold in the chill December air as I reached 2,000 feet, and I resorted to periodically holding the flight stick with my knees and rubbing my legs in a vain attempt to warm myself up. I continued up to 3,000 feet, and only another thousand feet above me hung great white clouds, lazily creeping inland. Fascinated, I looked up at the strange beasts, feeling as though I could reach up and scoop a section of cloud out with my hands. Feeling the familiar thrill of flying, I flew over the top of the Capital, weaving in an S-shape as I looked down at the specks of the people below. Four yellow-white balloons hung silently over Fulham in a small cluster, and I flew over the top of them, grinning as I did so. The cold still cut through me, but I was enjoying myself far too much to take any real notice.

Suddenly remembering that I was supposed to stay within eyeshot of the heath, I reluctantly turned around and headed back to Hounslow - but not before I took the opportunity, being out of the scrutiny of Andrews, to attempt an aileron roll! Tugging on my shoulder-straps beforehand, to make sure I was securely fastened, I yanked the stick to the right, and the B.E dropped its wing, rolled completely on to its side, and begun to turn over upside-down! Just as it did, the image of the dead aviator suddenly flashed into my mind, and for a second I panicked. The B.E. got stuck on its back, and begun slowly diving. Feeling sick with fear, I desperately pulled the stick right again and, to my joy, the B.E. half-rolled back onto its belly and levelled out. I had lost 600 feet in the manoeuvre.

Shaken, but now swelling with pride, I begun to climb back up. I had pulled off my first stunt! Although, I knew that it would be a while before I would have the pluck to try another. For the rest of my hour-long circuit I treated the B.E. very gently - my way of thanking it for not killing me in the aileron roll. Eventually, I checked the clock and saw that it was time to head back.

Andrews was furious on the runway. "Where the bloody hell did you go, Campbell? You were supposed to stay in sight of the aerodrome! What if you'd gotten lost, or crashed, idiot?".

"Sorry, sir" I mumbled, as I could see Freddy and Jacky-Boy over the Captain's shoulder, making faces and laughing at me from a distance.

Jacky-Boy was next to do his hour-long solo, and left around 2 PM. He, too, disappeared from sight. I wonder what kind of stunts he's off doing.


Last edited by Wulfe; 12/11/18 05:58 PM.
#4452899 - 12/11/18 09:39 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,496
carrick58 Online content
Senior Member
carrick58  Online Content
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Raine: I got the Gum from the Red Cross worker that came by the Aerodrome spreading good cheer along with Tea and Biscuits I say, She did have a funny accent may have been a Yank ?




Attached Files wings_edit_3178477k.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 12/11/18 10:16 PM.
#4452923 - Yesterday at 01:17 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,286
MFair Offline
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Posts: 2,286
Lou, another close call for one of our would be hero’s. Glad to see Swany was able to make it back to the field.

Wolfe, Graham had reason to be a bit timid after watching a machine spin in from a few thousand ft. I feel it will become an all too common sight once we get to France

Carrick, be careful with gifts from pretty women!

These are great stories gents. I am really going to enjoy these next three years.


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!
#4452924 - Yesterday at 01:19 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 1,821
Fullofit Online content
Member
Fullofit  Online Content
Member

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Ajax, ON
Lou, tough luck with that sad, sad engine. Liking the scenery!
Wulfe, rather a sobering story. Glad Graham wasn't too affected by this experience.
Carrick, now I have to ask. How did you get that gum from her? Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation exercises?

10-11 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Gaston had to wait in line all day for a chance to test his skills with the dead stick landing routine. Many of the trainees ended up somewhere else than the aerodrome and it took time to recover the machine. By the time it was Gaston’s turn it already was getting dark. He quickly hopped into the Caudron, gave it full beans to get up to 2000 m altitude and switched the engines off. They started to wind down with the propellers milling for a bit longer and then it was just the sound of wind whistling around, all the way down to the deck. Gaston didn’t waste much time and lined up the last leg of the landing phase. He miscalculated and ended touching down halfway down the runway, stopping near the end of the field. That was still better than some of the other students. There was no more time left to do another run. It would have to wait until the next day.
The next day was beautiful. His Caudron carried him up to 2000 m for his second attempt at dead stick landing. Gaston concentrated on the approach. He had to do better than last time. The rate of descent looked good, distance to touchdown seemed okay as well, good speed. He was just flying over the crest of the berm ahead of the airfield. It was all downhill from there. He passed the road on the outskirts with a few meters to spare and touched down just as the aerodrome opened up to him. It was a perfect 4-point landing. He couldn’t improve on it even if he tried even harder. Gaston jumped down from the cockpit and walked away feeling proud of his achievement. Tomorrow he’ll show them all how to stunt in this contraption. His confidence was growing with every step.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files IMG_0998.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."
#4453036 - Yesterday at 06:56 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 1,821
Fullofit Online content
Member
Fullofit  Online Content
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 1,821
Ajax, ON
12 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Gaston took the machine up to get a feel for the more extreme maneuvering that will be necessary later when they’ll eventually be forced to mix it up with the enemy in combat. Slipping was a bit disconcerting with the plane flying one way and his body telling him it’s going somewhere else. Looping was not a problem as long as there was enough height and enough speed could be harnessed during the initial dive. Gaston enjoyed performing these maneuvers. It reminded him of his childhood and the merry-go-rounds. Rolls were his downfall. With the two engines, the size of the craft and the span of the wings it proved impossible to rotate the plane about its axis. He would either end up cork screwing towards the ground, or managed a quarter roll and the plane would immediately right itself back to its natural attitude. It was a stable ship, that’s for sure.
For his second attempt, Gaston decided to refrain from doing anything fancy:



"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."
#4453047 - Yesterday at 07:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,496
carrick58 Online content
Senior Member
carrick58  Online Content
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Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,496
Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

10 Dec 1915.

I Took the Bus up to 5000ft and flew around for an 1 1/2 hrs. While waiting my turn for the Dead Stick Landings, We all watched as Jumbo made his approach and went straight into the ground. Why ? Too Fast ? No up elevators ? All flights Cancelled.

Attached Files Aeiral_Warfare_of_WW1 (37).jpg
#4453052 - Yesterday at 08:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,286
MFair Offline
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MFair  Offline
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Nice video Fullofit. Kudos on the dead stick landings and aerobatics

Carrick, Sorry you missed your turn at the controls. Especially as it was at the expense of Jumbo.

Mark A. Jericho
England
December 1915

Jericho sat in front of his instructor, Capt. Crittenden, as Crittenden looked over his file.

"It seems you took a very queer route to end up in the RAF Lieutenant. One year at university, a few years as a..." He paused for a moment. "Cowhand" he asked more than stated.

"Yes Sir" replied Jericho. "I was a top hand at the Bar T ranch near San Antonio Texas."

Captain Crittenden went on, "So you got your ticket to fly at Stinson Aviation in San Antonio then to Canada." Another pause. "What took you to Canada?"

"Circumstances Sir." replied Jericho.

Captain Crittenden eyed Jericho for moment and stood up looking out the window. "Thomas says you are a natural pilot Lieutenant." Turning back toward Jericho with a stern look he added. "He also said you are a bit brash."

Jericho started to speak but Captain Crittenden raised his had which silenced him immediately. "Lieutenant, I have had the pleasure of serving with some very good pilots in France. I dare say some much better than yourself" He stood for a moment and let the words sink in before adding, "and most of them are dead. It takes a lot more than a good hand at the controls to survive over the front. I hope you will learn that or you too will be joining them."

"Yes Sir!" replied Jericho. Jericho was pretty good at sizing someone up and he instinctively knew to listen to everything he had to say. Captain Crittenden was not the sort to pee on your leg and tell you it was raining.

"I think its time to see how you do with aerobatics" continued Capt. Crittenden. "I will see you on the field in half an hour."

"Yes Sir" Jericho replied as he saluted and turned to leave.

"Lieutenant!" the captained called after Jericho.

"Yes Sir?" Jericho answered.

"Anything I tell you will not be subjective. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir." Jericho replied with a salute.

Walking back to get his kit Jericho went over the meeting in his head. He liked Captain Crittenden. He demanded respect and Jericho could tell he deserved it. Nothing fancy or false about this character, he was the genuine article.


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!
#4453062 - Yesterday at 11:35 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 789
77_Scout Offline
Member
77_Scout  Offline
Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 789
Vancouver Island, Canada
2nd Lt Aleck A. MacKinlay

December 12, 1915

I am finally back on my feet after several days being down with some sort of cold or flu; terrible chills and a hacking cough. Had two days of confusion running around London trying to figure out my transport to France and confirming the details of my deployment. It seems the army is quite good at moving large groups of men to the front, but getting a single replacement pilot to his assigned post throws the whole system into a tizzie. Finagling that two weeks on leave apparently bunged things up a bit. I would have been wiser to just stay at No.5 Training and transfer out with the other graduate officer-pilots. Too clever for my own good!

Regardless, after seeing just about every clerk in the War Office and Quartermaster Generals offices in Whitehall I am on now my way. I had some notion that I would be ferrying a replacement aircraft across the channel right to my destination, but the reality is much less romantic or straightforward. I am to be shipped along like so much human-cattle by train to the Dover Marine Station, and any 'ferrying' I do from there will be on an actual ferry across the channel. Hoping for decent accommodations in Dover tonight ... have seen too many faces today and need some private time to settle myself.

#4453065 - 18 hours ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2013
Posts: 330
loftyc Offline
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loftyc  Offline
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Joined: Dec 2013
Posts: 330
13 Dec., Fldwbl Karl Arnt Lofthoven reporting. I have completed 5 training flights in the Aviatik BII. However, I have several issues with it that may prove insurmountable. Foremost is that it requires over half forward control lever to just maintain level flight! If I relax my hand (and indeed whole arm) even the slightest, the tail immediately drops, the nose goes up, and the plane goes into a stall. I managed only briefly to look back at the tail and confirmed that there is considerable negative deflection on the elevators, so it's not just a control stick/cable problem. Also, I was afforded the opportunity to test a captured British Be2, and found able to be hands-off the stick completely, something that would be fatal in my craft. I gather that the rest of you are Entente pilots (!), but perhaps one of you has at some time tested an Aviatik and can confirm or deny my observations? I find it too incredible to believe that such unstable behavior would be allowed on a production craft. Maybe my tailplane was misaligned during construction?

Unfortunately, what this leads to is that I can only fly this beast for an hour tops before my arm is too fatigued, as well as being able to only fly in clear, daylight skies, as I need a horizon for reference if the nose starts to creep up. Obviously these are restrictions not suitable for a front-line unit. Does anyone know perhaps of a field mod that KoFL issued that my mechanic should be aware of?

Also, the captured RAF plane had a timepiece, altitude meter,and an airspeed meter, all of which should be on every German plane. Why aren't they? Of course we're better fliers that the British (or anyone else) and don't explicitly need these gauges, but they sure would be operationally quite useful.


(edit: I misspelled my own name!)

Last edited by loftyc; 18 hours ago.
#4453076 - 16 hours ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,370
Raine Online content
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Raine  Online Content
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Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,370
New Brunswick, Canada
Loftyc,

Perhaps you're flying the machine without Fat Franz in the front seat????

#4453078 - 15 hours ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jun 2016
Posts: 62
Mortuus Online content
Junior Member
Mortuus  Online Content
Junior Member

Joined: Jun 2016
Posts: 62
Ottawa, ON
Hey all,

Got my first entry here. Knocked it out on my break at work (hence written by hand, rather than typed), and scanned it when I got home just now. I'll be transcribing it later tonight, but wanted to get this up and out there pronto.

[Linked Image]


[Linked Image]

Anyway, for those of you who can't read my handwriting (presumably all of you, haha), my pilot's name is Michael Atherton Thorne, formerly an observer in No. 1 Sqn, RFC, and before that a writer for the only newspaper in the town of Cochrane, Alberta (population 300 people, 1 quarry, 1 sawmill, and 4 brick plants).

#4453093 - 11 hours ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Oct 2011
Posts: 611
Ace_Pilto Offline
Livestreamer/YouTuber
Ace_Pilto  Offline
Livestreamer/YouTuber
Member

Joined: Oct 2011
Posts: 611
Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha
Talk about going above and beyond, just reading that gave my hand sympathy cramp Mortuus.


Let's pretend I got the BWOC badge to embed here.

Wenn ihr sieg im deine Kampf selbst gegen, wirst schwer wie stahl sein.
#4453096 - 9 hours ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: loftyc]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 789
77_Scout Offline
Member
77_Scout  Offline
Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 789
Vancouver Island, Canada
Originally Posted by loftyc
13 Dec., Fldwbl Karl Arnt Lofthoven reporting. I have completed 5 training flights in the Aviatik BII. However, I have several issues with it that may prove insurmountable. Foremost is that it requires over half forward control lever to just maintain level flight! If I relax my hand (and indeed whole arm) even the slightest, the tail immediately drops, the nose goes up, and the plane goes into a stall. I managed only briefly to look back at the tail and confirmed that there is considerable negative deflection on the elevators, so it's not just a control stick/cable problem. Also, I was afforded the opportunity to test a captured British Be2, and found able to be hands-off the stick completely, something that would be fatal in my craft. I gather that the rest of you are Entente pilots (!), but perhaps one of you has at some time tested an Aviatik and can confirm or deny my observations? I find it too incredible to believe that such unstable behavior would be allowed on a production craft. Maybe my tailplane was misaligned during construction?

Unfortunately, what this leads to is that I can only fly this beast for an hour tops before my arm is too fatigued, as well as being able to only fly in clear, daylight skies, as I need a horizon for reference if the nose starts to creep up. Obviously these are restrictions not suitable for a front-line unit. Does anyone know perhaps of a field mod that KoFL issued that my mechanic should be aware of?

Also, the captured RAF plane had a timepiece, altitude meter,and an airspeed meter, all of which should be on every German plane. Why aren't they? Of course we're better fliers that the British (or anyone else) and don't explicitly need these gauges, but they sure would be operationally quite useful.


(edit: I misspelled my own name!)


Aleck once had a dream were he flew over 30 missions in an Aviatik BII. Weird right? ... that a Scottish boy would have such an odd dream.
Anyway, in the dream he had to fly the plane with the stick well forward just to stay level. Being an awesome dream-pilot he of course could simply use his senses (eyes and ears) to judge altitude and airspeed. smile

#4453133 - 32 minutes ago Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,496
carrick58 Online content
Senior Member
carrick58  Online Content
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,496
Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

11 Dec

Services were held for Jumbo with full honors. I guess that I will ne ver see the 2 pounds and a 1/2 penny he owed me.

12 Dec: I did my 2 Dead Stick landings to day. The 1st Spot on,but the second ? I made a good approach floating down like a leaf from a tree then touch down and run out. The a/c ran out of air field came to a shuttering stop then became bogged down in the soft ground. A little damage to the prop and a landing wheel.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-13 09-23-25-58.jpg
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