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#4458121 - 01/21/19 01:36 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
20 January, 1916 10:06
Toul, Verdun Sector
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

The word came from the higher-ups that today’s mission will involve bombing the rail yard at Verdun spurline NE junction. The flight will be lead by Adjutant Mezergues with Gaston acting as his wingman. The A flight will be composed of Sergent Levy and Caporal Sourdiac. They will meet up with a single Nieuport from Esc 31, which will provide cover.
Right from the start they’ve lost Sgt. Levy after takeoff with some sort of engine trouble. Voscadeaux tried to see if he made it back safely but lost him in the ground clutter. He’ll have to wait to find out if the crew of the plane is safe after they return from their mission. Gaston noticed 2 Aviatiks on the way to the target but didn’t dare to go after them before the bomb run. Adj. Mezergues led the flight over the target and dropped his bombs first. Gaston aimed and dropped them second, followed by Cpl. Sourdiac.

[Linked Image]

The bombing mission was a success with most of the munitions exploding near the sheds and the trains.

[Linked Image]

Looking back, they saw crates and equipment on fire. On the return leg Gaston saw again, most likely, the same two German planes, but too high to give chase. This is the second day in a row that the luck was on Boche’s side. One of those days it’ll run out and Gaston will be there to take advantage. While on final approach to the Toul aerodrome Gaston saw Sgt. Levy’s aeroplane being recovered by the crews.

[Linked Image]

It looks like the luck was also with them.

Attached Files 1 1916-01-20-Bomb1.jpg2 1916-01-20-Bomb2.jpg3 1916-01-20-Airfield.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."
#4458124 - 01/21/19 02:21 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine, thank you for another delightful and highly educational story. Who would have thought Jericho had such a sweet tooth? By the way, James should probably follow Major’s example and carry a bottle of the fine whiskey in his pocket on every mission in case he is brought down behind enemy lines. 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."
#4458179 - 01/21/19 06:14 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders


Jan 21, 1916.

More supplies arrived enough for a full Recon of 3 a/c Our Bristol + 2 BE's for photo mapping. However the laid plans often go down the Tubes. Our flight ran into those 2 Monoplanes again 1/2 way thru the flight. We scattered the twisted and turned to cover each other. My gunner got off 2 burst 10 rds no hits then I chase one that was dueling with our Bristol Escort. I couldnt get in position but the e/a turned on me and the Bristol got on his tail and shot him down by a forward AF so landed to SEE the e/a.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-01-21 09-46-07-41.jpgCFS3 2019-01-21 09-51-10-79.jpgCFS3 2019-01-21 09-51-16-67.jpgCFS3 2019-01-21 10-01-25-54.jpg
#4458225 - 01/22/19 12:14 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Screenshots failed to save again! 'K' is the right button to press, isn't it? I blame Hun Spies...

Sgt. Graham A. Campbell,
No. 20 Squadron R.F.C,
St. Omer, France.

20th - 21st January, 1916.


I awoke late in the day to the droning of ‘A’ flight’s engines, as they took off for the morning patrol. ‘B’ Flight had been scheduled for an afternoon reconnaissance photoshoot. Rather than heading again to the Vincent, I decided to mill around the aerodrome, idly chatting with Ack-Emmas and pilots of No. 12 RFC - the other squadron based with us at St. Omer. No. 12 were on B.E’s and had suffered at the hands of the Fokker Eindecker - which, as we are quickly learning from No. 12 and ‘A’ Flight, are the scourge of our machines. At around Noon I bumped into Switch-off, who, to our happiness, has brightened up since his bout of homesickness in Netheravon. He beamed at me from above his crimson scarf, which now never left his neck (apparently he will even sleep wearing it, unless Jacky-Boy is having me on!) and begun to blurt out details of his first sortie to the lines. “Oh, Graham! It was extraordinary! Mud for miles and miles!”. I smiled, and nodded. “Yes, it’s quite the sight” I responded, feeling a strange sense of pity at the youngster’s enthusiasm, as for a brief moment the image of a burning Aviatik flashed into my mind. Absent-mindedly I allowed Switch-off to continue his creeping barrage of recollections, merely smiling and nodding automatically at the end of his sentences. Finally, the lad blurted out something about a “Letter to Mother” and merrily skipped away towards the Officers’ Mess. I breathed out heavily, and checked my watch. 14:30. Time to prepare for our flight.


Poor old 6338 was still being patched up by the Ack-Emmas, and so I was able to talk Archer into letting me borrow his bus, A6333. I mustn’t put a scratch on her, or Archer will have my head! He really has bonded with his machine, and constantly orders (and oversees) maintenance of the engine, guns, fabric, and just about anything else he can imagine might deteriorate on the aeroplane. As I donned my flying gear beside 6333, which was being given one final look over by the NCOs, Edith appeared before me, already fully equipped for our flight, the stench of whale grease invading my senses as he drew closer. Silently, he handed me the tub of the evil stuff, and I reluctantly applied the paste without a word. As I did so, Edith grinned at me, the corners of his thick black moustache curling upwards like that of a circus Strongman. Not long after, Graves appeared with his observer, closely followed by Reid, and we all climbed aboard our Fees. Props were swung, Chocks were cleared away, and we were off.

By now I was familiar with the route to Bethune, and scarcely needed to consult my map. As we approached the front lines, at 2300 feet, we formed a right edge formation, with Reid’s Reccie Bus in the middle, to protect from any possible attack from the front or rear. I sat at the back of the formation, which, admittedly, made me twitch slightly. Early that morning, some of the No. 12 boys were telling me that being ‘Tail End Charlie’, as they called the rearmost aeroplane, meant that the Hun would shoot you before anybody else! Ahead of me, Edith slowly scanned the skies, that same stone-faced coldness about him that he had when we attacked the Aviatiks. Out in front of us, there was a bright flash on the ground, and then I watched in amazement as in the same instant tonnes of earth were thrown skyward, hundreds of feet into the air. It was the beginning of an artillery barrage, fired by our guns on the German positions. Awestruck, I watched as explosion after explosion rocked the earth, one shell landing squarely on top of a farmhouse and simply causing it to vanish, as great clouds of dust raised up angrily and charged West, seeking revenge on the British artillerymen.

We passed the carnage by, and begun to list to the right, for Reid to make his photography run. In the Nacelle of his machine ahead, I saw his Observer lean over the side sickeningly in order to get as little of their Bus into the photograph as possible. I shuddered as I watched - any sudden movements by Reid and he would be tossed out the machine for sure! But Reid was a steady hand, and his Observer stayed put. By now the sky was darkening, the sun casting the clouds in a delicate pink hue, and above our heads the stars began to break through the blue. We circled back towards our own lines, and prepared for a second pass - we would have to act quickly, before the daylight became too dim. Looping around the outskirts of the still-ongoing artillery barrage, Reid’s observer again stood up, readying his camera. At once something caught my eye, an instant flash of light ahead of us. Archie? No - we were too close to our lines. There was another, closer, and this time Edith ducked down in the nacelle, turning back to face me with a worried look on his face. I looked out towards our lines and saw the flash of guns - then, to my shock, I caught a split-second glimpse of an artillery shell as it screamed past. Suddenly realising that we were in-between the guns and their target, and low enough to be right in the line of shot, panic rose in my throat and I gripped the flight stick with white knuckles until we had circled past and away from the arc of fire. Ahead of me, I saw Reid’s observer had ducked back into his seat - they must have noticed the shells too.

By the time Reid had made his second photography run, there was barely any daylight left, and the sky had darkened considerably. Within our own lines, a great white searchlight split the sky in half, slowly tracking something unseen to us, likely a Hun performing a similar task to us. Surely we would never make it back in daylight - a dreaded night-time landing awaited us. Edith knew this too, as I saw him check his wristwatch, frowning, before shooting me another concerned look. I nodded in acknowledgement, and we both turned to stare at Graves, willing him silently to turn us homeward. To our dismay, he instead looped around for a third reconnaissance run. I looked again at the cockpit clock - 4:35 PM. The sky would be pitch black by 5PM, and the ground too. Holding my breath, I followed our long arcing turn to reset our photography run. It seemed far too dark to take any useful pictures by now. We made our third run, and then, to mine and Edith’s elation, Graves turned us for home. We had one more grievance in store, however. As we flew over our trenches, our boys started firing up at us! Our Bus, or rather Archer’s Bus, was hit 6 times. I’m sure I will have to buy his drinks for a week.

As it turned out, I had been rather too dramatic about the dark, as it was a full moon that night and the moon’s rays afforded us enough visibility to make a comfortable landing. Once Edith and I had de-planed and removed our flying gear, we were approached by Jacky-Boy, who had organised a squadron evening trip into St. Omer, in order to conjure up all manner of mischief. Joined by Switch-off, Jimmy Reynard, Archer (whose drinks I did indeed need to supply), Pearson, Reid, and Edwards.

Staying true to his form, Pearson stumbled upon a piano in one of the drinking establishments we encountered, and we stayed there until twelve O’Clock barking out Patriotic songs and getting entirely too merry, before those of us that hadn’t passed out (which didn’t include poor young Switch-off, who we’d shamefully left asleep on a table two taverns ago) eventually made our way back towards St. Omer aerodrome.

As it turns out, our binge couldn’t have come at a worse time, for the next morning we were shaken awake by Cpl. Weston, with the most unwelcome news that we were transferring to Clairmarais. Falling out of bed, we clawed our uniforms on and stumbled out onto the aerodrome, where our Fees awaited us. Of course, Edith and I were among the unlucky airmen scheduled to fly a Bus, rather than drive over with the NCO convoy, and so I climbed into old 6338, rather wishing that the Tommies in the trenches yesterday had aimed better. Our bus seemed to relish in our torment, the sound of the engine piercing our skulls as we lifted into the sky alongside the other two ‘B’ flight Fees, and after a short and most unpleasant flight, in which Edith was sick over the side of the Nacelle, we arrived at our new home. We fell out of our machine, and I turned to Edith. “You were sick…” I mumbled, dumbly, and he shot me a cold look. “Aye, I was aimin’ fir a Hun sheep” he sarcastically responded. I managed a weak chuckle.

Clairmarais was considerably smaller than St. Omer, but we had it to ourselves. The Major and the Captains (including Edith) stayed in a lovely large country estate that sat just behind the hangars. Our Adjutant, Lt. Ellicott, also set his office up in this building. The rest of us were Billeted in St. Omer - and I was not far away from the Vincent! I was eager to visit Jeanne again, but before I got the chance Edith arrived with orders for me. “Switch-Aff’s at No. 1 Depot. He wandered in aboot fifteen minutes after we left. Goan’ over an’ get him, will ye, before the Major catches wind of our wee night raid to Omer!”. And so, enlisting the services of Cpl. Weston as a chauffeur, we went back across to St. Omer and picked up the fragile-looking young lad. He was the picture of misery when we finally collected him, and upon arrival at his Billet (which was on the second floor of the small town-house Jacky-Boy, Jimmy Reynard and I were staying in) he remained in bed for the day. Alcohol certainly doesn’t agree with him yet!

Some good news came when we re-assembled on the aerodrome at two O’clock. We were all to be free of flying duties for the next three days, save for Graves, who was to return to St. Omer to collect a Martinsyde that No. 20 had been charged with evaluating. For the rest of the day I thought it wise not to call upon Jeanne - at least, not in my after-binge state! Jacky-Boy, however, was not to be deterred, and at the first opportunity headed to the Vincent. He returned to our Billet fifteen minutes later, in a mood. “Engine trouble?” I teased. “Oh, shut up, Graham,” he retorted, slamming the door to his room as Jimmy Reynard and I burst into a fit of laughter.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon assembling photographs that Edith had given me into an impromptu scrapbook, fashioned from one of our standard issue notebooks.

[Linked Image]
Capt. Ken Edith, after a clean shave, taken by Jacky-Boy.

[Linked Image]
Testing the Lewis Mounts.




Last edited by Wulfe; 01/22/19 12:18 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4458226 - 01/22/19 12:33 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
21 January, 1916 11:02
Toul, Verdun Sector
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Adjutant Mezergues was leading Gaston north. He could tell this only by looking at his compass. The weather was terrible and every single little gust of wind made his plane rock and bounce in all directions, despite a full load of bombs. Each and every one of them had the name of the factory at Vigneulles les Hottonchatel written all over them. Gaston attempted to locate Sergent Sourdiac somewhere behind them in the A flight, but gave up rather quickly. Wiping his goggles from the incessant rain Gaston checked the position of the flight leader ahead of him. Mezergues led them through the cloud layers and Voscadeaux started to believe he could get them over the target even in his sleep. When Adjutant gave the signal, they all dropped their bombs in unison, even though no target was visible below. Gaston crossed his fingers for some good hits. It was time to get back. They were crossing the frontlines when they came in contact with two Aviatiks. This was only possible because of a gap that opened up in the otherwise monolithic wall of clouds. They were flying a good distance away: too far to mount an attack, but still close enough to observe each other. Keeping one eye on the leader and the other on the enemy, Gaston noticed some movement in the corner of his eye. Becquerel, his mountain of a man gunner was waving his arms around. Gaston quickly scanned the sky again expecting a Fokker right on their tail, but there was none. The sky was clear, or as clear as a cloudy sky could be. What was he doing? Why was he waving his arms? And then it dawned on him that he must be waving to the Germans. He was waving to them! What does he think they're going to do, wave back? Gaston looked at the machines in the distance and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The German crews were waving back! The sight made Gaston smile. He raised his free hand and waved back as well and then they were gone, hidden by the gray wall of precipitation. Voscadeaux looked at his gunner and could only guess that the man was grinning back at him through his bushy beard. He realized it was the first time since Christmas that for that one single minute the war ceased to exist.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-01-21-Enemy.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."
#4458249 - 01/22/19 09:46 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Germany
[Linked Image]



p.s..... how do you guys attache that smaller pic that expands when you click it at the bottom

Last edited by lederhosen; 01/22/19 09:56 AM.

make mistakes and learn from them

I5 4440 3.1Ghz, Asrock B85m Pro3, Gtx 1060 3GB
#4458293 - 01/22/19 06:56 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: lederhosen]  
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Originally Posted by lederhosen
p.s..... how do you guys attache that smaller pic that expands when you click it at the bottom


Click on 'Attachment Manager', in the Post Options section.

#4458296 - 01/22/19 07:20 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Aleck A. MacKinlay
January 21, 1916

Good to be back at Abeele and cleared to fly. I will have to catch up my diary regarding my time in hospital when I have a spare few moments. Pretty dismal and I am just happy to be away from that place.

Accommodations here are looking up ... I have been moved into one of the two new shed-barracks recently finished, which is a great improvement.

Chris has been flying with another pilot and so I have been assigned to observer Captain Trevelyan, a rather gung-ho Irishman. He seems quite serious, all business.

Our assigned mission today was to patrol over enemy front lines. Bloody ridiculous! Sending BE2's to patrol into enemy skies?! Standing orders from the top apparently that we are to be 'aggressive' at all times and go looking for a scrap. I think Major Mills is taking this idea a bit far in sending us out is our slow BE2's; isn't that what the Fees and Bristols are for! To top it all off, I was to lead our little flight of two aircraft, on my first day back from a concussion, in a lousy snow storm!

Fortunately we saw not a hint of the enemy ... they are too smart to be flying around in such weather. Had yet another engine failure as we approached home. I landed very carefully on a roadway NE of Abeele and we were home by car by mid afternoon. After reporting to Major Mills, he apparently called in the head mechanic for a severe reprimand. Hopefully my engine problems will improve as a result.

#4458308 - 01/22/19 10:02 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
22 January, 1916 11:05
Toul, Verdun Sector
Escadrille C17
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Well, apparently the blind bombing of the factories didn’t go that well yesterday. The bombs either did very little damage or missed the target altogether. In either case, Gaston was now leading the new guy, Sergent Durand to do what they failed to do yesterday. Before takeoff Durand came up to Gaston and told him not to worry. All Gaston needed to do is to get them over the target and he’ll do the rest. The boy is full of himself, but better that than hiding under his mother’s skirts. A little cockiness never hurt anybody. Getting them over the target was easier said than done. Thick clouds laced the sky as far as eye could see. Gaston was afraid it would be a repeat of yesterday. The kid will be disappointed. They were to meet with their escort, a lonely Nieuport from Esc 65 halfway to the front and Voscadeaux felt relieved when the little scout appeared over their heads. It also made him feel more confident about his navigating skills. With the Nieuport watching over them Gaston concentrated on further navigation to the target, which consisted of looking out for small holes and gaps between the clouds and trying to figure out what that little view represented. It felt to him like he was playing a giant jigsaw puzzle. After 40 minutes of flying north Gaston estimated they should be somewhere near the target. The problem was there was no way of knowing with the thick clouds obscuring most of the ground. Voscadeaux decided to descend to a useful altitude. 1500m, 1300m, 1100m, 1000m, finally the landscape started to appear below. There it is ... a lake! What? There is no lake anywhere near the target. Gaston fumbled for his map and quickly realized he drifted by some 10 km to the west. He sheepishly turned east and started to look for additional landmarks. A gap appeared in the cloud canopy and sun started to peek through. It was at that exact moment that Gaston noticed the factory to his left with the walls bathed in the sunlight. It seemed like a sign from above. “Gott mit uns?” No, my little German friends. “Le Dieu est avec nous!” Voscadeaux aimed his Caudron at the “beacon” and checked on Durand. Still there, still following. As they approached the factories Durand pulled alongside Gaston’s machine. Seeing this Gaston smiled at the boy’s eagerness. Now over the target. Release! Voscadeaux’s and Durand’s bombs raced towards the target, impacting all around the large buildings and smaller sheds. Large columns of black smoke started to rise from the now obliterated factory. Durand went for another pass and more smoke and dust rose from the ruins. They will not recover from this one so quickly. Gaston was already pointed south for their return trip. As Durand rejoined the formation two more bombs hit the ground, too far to do any more damage. It must have been Adjutant Guytant in A flight, who opted for the blind approach from above the clouds. The return trip was uneventful and all flights landed safely. It was only 13:00 but Gaston was ready for a nap. A glass of wine and a nap.



"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."
#4458412 - 01/23/19 05:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Great stories, pics and videos Gents! I am happy to hear the squad is back to normal lederhosen.

Lt. Mark Jericho
Auchell Aerodrome
Jan. 23, 1916

All flights are cancelled. Jericho, James and Swany took transport to Bethune to have a good time. Swany and James were still ribbing Jericho for having to go around three times the night before until he could safely bring the Morane to ground in one piece.

“I thought you were the best pilot in the squad Jericho!” Jeames said with a grin.

“Ya, you had us all wondering if you were shook up.” Swany added

“Dang right I was shook up” Jericho replied. “Between the rain, snow, and it being dark I was a bit disoriented. To high the first time, two low the second time. So I just split the difference.”

“Just having a laugh mate,” James chimed in. “We are just glad you got her down in one piece!” he said as he slapped Jericho on the shoulder.

After a nice dinner with desert the the trio left to see some other sights. Walking in front of them was a French officer talking in stride with a women The conversation between the two was obviously getting heated when the officer stopped and lightly backhanded the young women.

Before James or Swany knew it, Jericho had spun the officer around and decked him with one punch. In an instant he was on the man making a mess of him. Swany grabbed Jericho in a bear hug and pulled him off of the officer. Swany was shouting for Jericho to calm down, using all his strength to hold him at bay. Truth be known Swany was the only one strong enough to hold the out of control man.

Jericho finally can to his senses and relaxed, holding his bloody palms out from under Swan’s arms in surrender. “Let me go Swany. I’m finished.” he said.

“We have to get out of here now!” James said. He slipped the women some money and ushered her away putting his finger to his lips in the universal language of “not a word.”

As they made their way back to Auchell in silence, James turned to Jericho and asked, “What in god’s name got in to you Jericho!?”

Jericho did not look up, “there was no need to treat a lady that way.” he replied.

“You do know that lady as you call her was most likely a prostitute don’t you” James asked.

Jericho looked up at James, “I don’t give a tinkers d#*n if she was the devils daughter. No one is going strike a lady and get away with it.” He then turned to Swany, “ Thanks for stopping me Pard. I would have been in some real trouble otherwise.”

They split up with James back at Auchell with Swany and Jericho making their way to their hut. “Thanks again Pard” Jericho said to Swany. “I owe you one.”


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!
#4458449 - 01/23/19 10:54 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
MFair, And who said chivalry was dead?


"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."
#4458461 - 01/24/19 01:10 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit, lets hope Jericho can live long enough for this to play out.


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!
#4458467 - 01/24/19 02:38 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nice reading to go with my Coffee.

#4458468 - 01/24/19 02:40 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders

Jan 22, 1916.

Short flight today, The motor went U/S on the take off roll.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-01-23 18-33-48-07.jpg
#4458469 - 01/24/19 02:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders


Jan 23, 1916.


Down in the hanger , working on my kites motor. Just as well due to bad Weather. The Sqn is at full status with 12 Be's and 3 Bristol's Some one said bombs were moving up from supply.

Attached Files Cooper-1.JPG
Last edited by carrick58; 01/24/19 02:48 AM.
#4458499 - 01/24/19 01:01 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, better be careful with those! And don’t play with the arming mechanism.


"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."
#4458522 - 01/24/19 04:55 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58  Offline
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Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,938
I say , Gotta see what makes em tick.

#4458528 - 01/24/19 06:39 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: carrick58]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
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Fullofit  Offline
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Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Originally Posted by carrick58
I say , Gotta see what makes em tick.

A ticking bomb is not a good thing. Run!


"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."
#4458573 - 01/25/19 03:04 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,531
Raine Offline
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Raine  Offline
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Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,531
New Brunswick, Canada
Wow, the stories just keep getting better. Wulfe, you do a great job with Edith's broad Scots dialogue. And I'm getting jealous of your Fee as I bounce around in the Parasol, stalling in every high wind. Fullofit, it feels ominous reading of Gaston's experiences in the days leading up to the meat-grinder of verdun. Great video, too. Lederhosen, it was interesting to see you're in the Pfalz. That's one I haven't flown yet. I'm curious whether it feels at all different from the Morane. 77_Scout, good thing Aleck had a quiet return from hospital. I find the first couple of missions after a lay-off are always dangerous. MFair, I loved your story. Mine below is a tribute to it. Carrick, you were lucky the motor conked out when it did, another five or ten seconds could have put you in the trees!

Special thanks to Maeran for the great story idea and for the lyrics below.



An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins

Part Twelve: In which Bethune meets the Wild West

On the 21st and 22nd of January, I shivered my way through two reconnaissance flights, escorting Captain Mealing. The first flight was to the north of Ypres and the second to the south of Lens, so I got a good tour of the front. Then the snow began in earnest and the wind blew and angry wraiths of driven snow roiled and twisted over the frozen fields and the ice pellets rattled the mess window.

Sgt McCudden, whom I have already mentioned, has distinguished himself as both a mechanic and a fine observer, has been awarded the Croix de Guerre. It was awarded to him personally by General Joffre at an investiture in Lillers.

I spent Sunday 23 January quietly. The padre from Wing was to have held a Sunday Eucharist in one of our hangars but his driver put his car in the ditch, so I spent the entire day in the mess reading a smashing book, The Thirty-Nine Steps. It belongs to Johnson of “C” Flight, and goes next to Jericho. The mess steward is keeping a sign-up sheet for the thing! Around three, Swany and Jericho and I caught a drive to Bethune. We split up for shopping and I got a haircut at “Eugene the coiffeur,” a highly recommended spot. Eugene must have traded his scissors for a rifle as Madame ran the place, and a finer hand with a razor was never seen. She chatted merrily all the while and I understood every fifth word.[1]

[Linked Image]
Grande Place, Bethune

We reunited for a fine dinner at the "Hôtel de France," but the place was full of red tabs and French officers and officials so we repaired to the "Lion d’Or" off the Grande Place. There a lovely young girl named Agnes served a dish of meat and pastry and wonderful little cakes for dessert. Scarcely had we stepped back onto the street, laughing and singing, than Jericho dropped his parcels and sprinted ahead down the pavement. He'd seen a French officer slapping the girl he was with. Jericho appeared like a knight of old and put the officer down in the gutter with one blow. He then put a knee on the fellow’s chest and began to alter his appearance with a rain of punches. Swany pulled him away while I (gallant chap that I am) attended to the maiden. She was clearly unharmed, for she suggested that I looked in need of a drink and suggesting that I could perhaps “visiter chez moi.” Swany was in a great rush to get out of the area, for the Frenchman seemed to be of high rank. Luckily, our rendezvous with the squadron tender was only minutes away and we were soon safely back at Auchel where the tale of Jericho’s defence of a fille de joie brought many laughs – until the following day.

We were attending a lecture on military law given by the CO when, appropriately for the subject, an Assistant Provost Marshal and two grim-faced military policemen with starched brassards on their arms knocked on the door and interrupted Major Harvey-Kelly in mid-dissertation. Apparently, three British officers, two of whom were wearing RFC maternity jackets, had accosted a French colonel in Bethune the previous evening, and he asked if any of our officers had been in town that night.

I looked nervously at Swaney across the aisle, and Swaney looked at Jericho, and Jericho looked at his hands, which bore the scars of the evening in question.

“I am the Commanding Officer of this squadron,” the Major declared with an imperial air, "and I can swear on my honour that not one British officer from this squadron was in Bethune last night.” The A.P.M. touched his riding crop to his hat and thanked the Major. As soon as the door closed and the footsteps subsided he returned to the podium. “Before we resume our discussion on the proper completion of charge sheets, I should mention that all Canadian and American officers present shall be required to open a chit at the bar after dinner and to leave said chit open for at least an hour. Now, let us continue...”

Captain Mealing played the piano that evening while our fellow pilots and observer became sloshed. The boys paraded Jericho around in a chair like the Pope, until too drunk to keep him up there, they let him fall over a table, smashing it to firewood. But it was Major Harvey-Kelly who capped the night off with a song he’d composed on a napkin at the bar, all to the tune of the American song "When Johnny Comes Marching Home":

The shame of France left the Line
Skidoo skidoo
To beat the women and steal the wine
Skidoo skidoo
He met an angry airmen there
Who knocked him right across the square

Don't mistreat her or else beware
The Boxer of Bethune

Born too late for Agincourt
Skidoo skidoo
Too late for Waterloo
Skidoo skidoo
When he saw the Frenchman acting foul
He said "by Jinks, you'll do"

Don't mistreat her or else beware
The Boxer of Bethune

To all the mademoiselles of France
Skidoo skidoo
If you want better; now's your chance!
Skidoo skidoo
Oh, Landlord you've a daughter fair
With lily-white arms and golden hair

So raise a cheer and send a beer
To the Boxer of Bethune


NOTES:

[1] There was a "Eugene: Coiffeur" in Bethune. The place is mentioned in With the Tanks, 1916-1918, by W.H.L. Mason. Mason is also the source for the description of Agnes, the girl at the "Lion d'Or."

Attached Files Bethune2.jpg
#4458584 - 01/25/19 07:36 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
77_Scout Offline
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77_Scout  Offline
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Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
Vancouver Island, Canada
2nd-Lt Aleck A. MacKinlay
January 25, 1916

A very distressful day. Captain Trevelyan and I were tasked with a recon mission to scout for enemy movements near Lake De Blankaart (an area we are getting to know well!). As per new RFC tactics we were escorted by two additional BE2c's and a Bristol Scout.

Apparently we have been too often over this area as the Jerries were on hand to break up the party. My first encounter with the dreaded Fokker monoplane, and there were two of them.!

Bloody Buckminster flew on in his Bristol and didn't even see the enemy. Damned incompetent! Our three BE2's were in deep trouble against two attackers. I stuck close to Miller and we tried to use our mutual arcs of fire to drive off one of the Hun; a very persistent chap that was not easily put off. He seemed to have us dead-to-rights several times but only managed to hit us with a few rounds before giving up. A rookie pilot perhaps? Nonetheless, the bugger wounded both Treveyan (he says to call him Jimmy, but dammit, he seems too serious to be a Jimmy) and myself. 'Jimmy' got a nick on his scalp and I a bullet gash through my leg-calf.

We made it home pretty shook up and scared half to death. The Major sent us both off to Poperinge dressing station for wound treatment. The other fellows all made it home OK, but also pretty shaken by the encounter. Hunt and Marshall had to fend off the second Fokker alone and are lucky to be in one piece.

January 26: Arrived back at Abeele after lunchtime. Will not be able to fly for a couple of days. Lt Mcnaughton and 2nd-Lt Millar were killed in action today, which is a great loss for the Squadron; they had 4 kills to their credit. If they can be downed in a Fee, then what chance do we BE2 pilots have?


Last edited by 77_Scout; 01/25/19 07:37 AM.
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