Previous Thread
Next Thread
Print Thread
Rate This Thread
Hop To
Page 43 of 79 1 2 41 42 43 44 45 78 79
#4469264 - 04/06/19 09:42 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
carrick58 Offline
Senior Member
carrick58  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
Emile Benoit La Mont
Sgt, N 26
St. Pol-sur-mer, AF
Flanders, France
April 6, 1916

Zee Newport BeBe is a wonder to fly after that 2 Seat machine. Fast ( probably because its small and light). Turns quickly carving without skidding. Always seems to be climbing. Draw back; Dont dive Zee little wing will twist right off.

Railyard Attack: The Esc crossed the lines and went deep to hit a Railyard. I made 2 passes emptying a drum of 47 303's. Most of the other Fearless Aviators did the same. Not much damage ,but a lot of noise and working on our skills.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-06 14-02-11-61.jpgCFS3 2019-04-06 14-10-11-55.jpgCFS3 2019-04-06 14-11-55-66.jpg
#4469287 - 04/07/19 01:12 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Lou, looks like Swany is enjoying his time without the Fokkers.And that looked like a major malfunction of Le Rhone. Glad he made it back safe and sound. oh, more Georgette delays. I hate delays.
Carrick,
Welcome to the club. Remember, you can now shoot forward!


4 April, 1916 noon
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills
Waiting for a claim confirmation

The priest made the cross sign with his forearm and everyone gathered around the freshly dug grave followed with a cross sign of their own. The end of the funeral was nigh.
“- Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord!”
“- And let the perpetual light shine upon him.” Was the crowd’s response.
The final words of the solemn ceremony rung clear across the entire tiny cemetery: “- And may the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.”
The casket was lowered into the grave and the undertaker started to unceremoniously drop dirt onto it. Lieutenant Dagonet was standing closest.
“- We’ll never meet another one like him.” He said to Caporal Tsu, standing next to him. Tsu nodded in response but said nothing.
“- How did it happen?” Adjutant Barnay who was away and joined the entombment midway through asked the man standing beside him. Caporal de Geuser replied: “Last evening he was trying out one of the newly arrived Bebes over the airfield. He took off and attempted a chandelle only 30 meters of the ground. The kite stalled and he smashed into the ground. Killed on impact. What a shame.”
Gaston was standing alone. There were many pilots standing right next to him, but he felt alone. Capitaine Louis Quillien, their C.O. was an extraordinary man and the first squadron leader who liked him. He will miss him immensely. Dagonet is right, they will never meet another like him.
It was past noon and they were walking back to the aerodrome. The sun was shining, birds chirping and the insects buzzing around. The spring was in full swing. Gaston’s thoughts hovered over this morning’s mission.
It was an early morning line patrol between Aisne and Meuse Rivers. As they were flying over the front, Gaston thought he saw puffs of anti-aerienne against the white clouds above Verdun. He decided to investigate. For a long time he didn't see anything and was beginning to doubt himself when two shapes emerged from the clouds. Gaston had to get closer to recognize the threat. Two Aviatiks were molesting some target below. When they saw Voscadeaux approach, they ceased their attack and started to climb. Little did they know that Gaston's Bebe could climb like a monkey and soon he was on their tails. He aimed for the leader, who was flying lower than his wingman. The attack would come from behind and below, so that was the reasoning for his choice of prey. He was getting close, just a little bit closer. He was firing into the fuselage and dealing great damage but the plane stayed on course. In the meantime, the wingman dropped down enough to give his gunner enough room to attack Voscadeaux from the side. Gaston quickly dove under to avoid more damage. As he made his loop to get back on his tail he noticed the leader falling behind. That suited Gaston just fine. He attacked and dove under to avoid the return fire. He eventually spent all his ammo yet the Aviatik kept on going, albeit slow and losing altitude. Gaston followed from a distance and watched. They crossed the frontlines. It looked like the two-seater would land in the first open field available, but no. He was going to reach the aerodrome, which was coming now into view. Gaston had seen enough and wasn't coming anywhere near the aerodrome. It was then that the ailing bird attempted a landing. He must have hit something because the crate cartwheeled as soon as it touched down. Voscadeaux was satisfied and turned back for home. He had no witnesses but put in another claim. Who knows? Maybe one of the observation balloons saw the whole thing?



4 April, 1916 14:00 afternoon mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills
Waiting for 2 claim confirmations

It was another useless exercise this afternoon. They were to attack enemy troop camp near Flirey. The flight path will take them across the entire Boche occupied St. Mihiel salient. It seemed dangerous and would be pointless. Even with Le Prieur rockets loaded Gaston wished to have been flying his old Caudron. Without bombs he was toothless. As expected, the rockets scared Boche more than inflicted any damage. A lot of smoke but Gaston wasn't even amused by it anymore.
"Why don't they send us against the gas bags with these rockets? Wouldn’t that do more good?"
The flight returned to Senard. A new C.O. was settling in. He cleaned out all Capitaine Quillen’s belongings except for the autographed picture of Pegaud on the desk in the office. Capitaine Marcel Paul Auguste Feierstein was born same year as Voscadeaux. A professional soldier and a military pilot since 1912. He invited Gaston to discuss how the unit can improve and what can be done about the current rate of failed missions. Gaston was too tired to complain about the rockets, the missions, the weather. He was getting old. Complaining seemed to be a sport to him now. He would have to get back to the new C.O. For now, he needed sleep.

[Linked Image]
Capitaine Marcel Feierstein

Attached Files Marcel_Feierstein.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."
#4469294 - 04/07/19 01:42 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2018
Posts: 245
Wulfe Offline
Member
Wulfe  Offline
Member

Joined: Aug 2018
Posts: 245

Lou - gave me a scare, there! It's always a nervous moment when your engine packs up. But, at least the Fokkers have learned not to mess around with 'Odin' anymore! As much as I have enjoyed witnessing your scoring streak, I hope you get a good long break from them. I'm sure the resourceful Swany will find a way of getting back to his Georgette for more.....French lessons. Great episode - looking forwards to more!

Carrick - a Nieuport! I'm jealous! Now you'll be giving those Monoplanes a hiding! Happy hunting with the 'Bebe'.

Fullofit - That funeral introduction had me starting to sweat for a minute...excellently written, as usual. But, what a shame about the C.O - I hope his successor is fitting of the title. Good attack on the Aviatik - shame the Lewis ran dry...I bet those Fliegers will be spinning one hell of a yarn in their mess tonight ! Some of those close passes were terrifying to watch! Excellent flying display, and brave, too - I would have panicked and left three times over by the time you were through with him! I really appreciate the videos, by the way - still being a relative 'Newbie' to WoFF it helps a lot to see an old hand at work.


2nd. Lieut. Graham A. Campbell, MC,
No. 24 Squadron R.F.C,
Somewhere in the Mud, France.

April 7th, 1916.

At nightfall I said my final good-byes to the old French couple, and slipped out into the cold darkness, my revolver drawn. There was no time for names, sadly, but with them I left my silk under-gloves. It was all I could think to gift them as I left, and I hoped they understood its sentiment - I owed them my lives.

The town of Courcelette sat mere feet from the German lines, and as I silently crept through the dark I could hear them joking and laughing, singing together to keep the misery at bay. I approached the town limits on all fours, slowly crawling and making myself as low as possible to the ground to remain unseen. Just as I was passing the farmost buildings, there was a pop, a whizzing sound, and suddenly the ground was illuminated in a brilliant green light. Immediately I fell on my front, making out that I was dead, as above me the star-shell hung ominously in the sky.

Eventually the light faded, and again I continued my slow-crawl, trying not to gag at the stench of death that filled the air. My hand rested on something soft, and wet, and I recoiled and nearly cried out as I realised I had been leaning on the torn-apart corpse of a war-horse. On my knees, I stared in disgusted shock at the dull reflection of the moonlight in its eye, before snapping to my senses and continuing on.

I had made it a good distance away from the town and into the mud when the second star-shell went up. This time, however, I was on my feet, and within seconds of the light illuminating the mud I heard far-off cries in German, followed by the familiar staccato of a machine-gun. I threw myself almost head-first into a shell-hole as bullets whipped around my feet, rolling to a stop next to a recently-dead infantryman. As the light flickered out, I caught a glimpse of the rats feeding on his legs and stomach, and I retched.

I sat in that shell-hole, with the dead soldier (a German) meters away from me in pitch blackness, for what felt like hours. Every now and then I cringed as I felt the weight of a rat shooting across my legs. In the end I found my courage and sheepishly crawled out of the hole, making my way back towards the English lines. In the distance, a red star-shell went up from our lines, as if answering the Germans’ one. In the distance, a wounded man was crying out for help. I tried to ignore the sound, but it pierced me to my soul, and I begun to hum softly to myself to try and cover-up the anguished cries.

First light had started to break by the time I had traversed the horrors that No-Mans-Land presented me with, and it was in my tired, sick, and miserable state that I flopped down into a shell-hole within earshot of the British lines. I couldn’t make out the words, but I heard the distant mumble of conversations, and the more evident sharply barked commands of the officers. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I cried out “Hello! I’m a pilot! Can I come over?”. The air seemed to stand still, the chatter immediately ceasing, before a voice finally responded. “Hands up! Let’s see you, then”. I obliged, my hands appearing over the lip of the shell-hole before I poked my head out. Ahead, I saw distant guns trained on me. After a few seconds, the voice cried out “Okay, come on then”. Just then, there was a sharp crack and I felt something whizz past an inch from my ear. Ahead of me, a small spot of dirt was churned up. Sniper!. I broke into a sprint, and a Tommy jumped to his gun, but was mercifully pulled off by another soldier. A second shot whizzed past me, again coming sickeningly close, but by the time the Sniper was ready to make his third shot I had dove into the trenches head-first, crashing down hard and crying out in pain as I landed on my shoulder.

Wincing, I was pulled to my feet by an infantry Lieutenant, who immediately put a revolver to my stomach. I looked at him in shocked silence, and with a fierce look he said to me “We’ve been told to look out for pilots on the ground. A lot of spies going around, you know?”. Promptly I was whisked into a bunker dug out from the mud and sat at gunpoint in front of a thin, impossibly tired looking Captain.

“So, you say you’re an airman? Flying corps?”. I nodded, and he let out an ‘uh-huh’ with an air of disbelief. “What regiment?”. “Regiment…?” I repeated, confused, and he frowned, writing something down in a notebook. He then glanced back up at me, expectantly. “I’m in 24 Squadron, not a regiment” I explained, which seemed to set him at ease, slightly. “And how come you’re appearing out of the morning at our doorstep from Hunland?” he asked. “I was shot down. Yesterday, in a big scrap over Bethune. It must have been around six or seven in the morning”. He frowned, nodding slowly, and then turned back to his book, again jotting something down, before turning to the Lieutenant. “Who was sentry yesterday morning?” he asked. “Why, I think it was Privates Simmons and Wilkins”. “Fetch them, would you?”. “Sir”.

After fifteen minutes of intense stares, and a guard being posted at my back, two filthy Tommies were bustled in. The Captain looked at them, then gestured to me. “This man says he was shot down in an air fight yesterday morning, on the edge of Hunland. Did you see any fights?”. They looked at me with their eyes squinted, as if they could have recognised my face from the scrap. “Yeah, Sir, there was one scrap. Early-like, just after sunrise. A big one, too! About fifteen planes, I reckon. But I didn’t see any land, only fall”. The Captain placed a hand on his revolver, but then the other spoke. “No, you dolt, remember we saw one of our boys land on our side? And before that, one plane went spiralling down with a great big smoke trail, and two others followed? I only saw one flying away from that!”.

My face lit up. “That was me!” I cried, “It was me and two Huns! I’d just gotten one when the other hit my engine! He came right over me as I was landing!”. A long silence gripped the room, before eventually the Captain nodded. “24 Squdron, eh? Who’s your C.O?”. “Major Lanoe Hawker, Sir”. “Okay, I’ll telephone for him. Where abouts can I reach him?”. “Bertangles Aerodrome. The western field”.

I was briefly brought before a doctor to be checked over. After a brief, expertly precise examination, he removed his small half-moon glasses. “Well, son, you’ve been lucky. I’ve had one or two airmen brought to me after crashes, and…” he trailed off, staring past me for a moment, before snapping out of whatever memory he was in. “Anyway. You have a concussion, and it looks like you’ve sprained your shoulder when you tumbled in. Are you heading back to your squadron?”. I nodded. “Well, let me write your a C.O a note. You’ll need to sit the next couple days out, I think”. He wrote the note, and I stuffed it into the pocket of my tunic.

From the doctor’s office the same Lieutenant from before led me down the trench-lines towards the communications dugout. Some soldiers waved cheery hellos to me, others regarded me with disgust. “Cosy back there, is it?” one snarled at me, pointing into our lines as he said it. “Yes, but not up there” I responded, nodding my head upwards. He spat on the ground, as I clenched my fists, walking past him. The Lieutenant shot a quick ‘Shut up, you!” at him, and that was the end of it. At the phone, the Lieutenant asked the operator for my squadron, and had a brief exchange, before handing the phone to me. “They want a word”. I took the phone, breathing a heavy sigh. “Hello? Campbell”. On the other side of the line came Hawker’s relieved voice. “Campbell, thank god! We all thought you’d gone west, old boy! Why, we even held a funeral service for you this morning!”. “Oh, my apologies, sir, for not turning up”. The sound of his booming laugh on the other end of the line was a gift after my ordeal. “Well, I’ll send Powell out in a car right away. Where abouts are you?”. “Err…hang on a minute”. I covered the receiver and turned to the Lieutenant. “Where are we?” I asked, and he sighed in irritation and snatched the phone from me. “Trench map reference 10F71. Yes, near Albert. Yes. I’ll send him there. Thank you, sir”. He hung up, and turned to me. “Righto. Come on, we’ll get you in a truck for Albert. You’ll be picked up there by a Chauffeur at the foot of the Basilica”.

[Linked Image]

The drive out was short, but disturbing. In the front-cab of a Bedford we passed endless waves of Walking Wounded moving towards Albert on one side of the road, and nervous youthful replacements walking the other way, on the other side. Eventually I was dropped off in Albert, next to the foot of the grand Basilica that towered above the town. All around were scores of infantry, artillery pieces being towed by horse, supplies, red cross ambulances - a seemingly endless ocean of khaki. Something big is coming up I thought as I looked over the swell of soldiers. After a quiet two-hour wait, a car roared around the corner on two wheels, coming to a screeching stop in front of me. Happily, Powell leaned over and swung the door open for me. “‘Ello, Sir! You look ruff!” he chirped. Exhausted, I fell into the seat beside him. “Cheer up, fella!” he told me, as the car jumped forwards and shot through the waves of infantry (some of which had to throw themselves out of the way of the reckless Sergeant). “You could be one of these poor sods!”. I looked at him, shaking my head.

We raced up the road past Doullens and on to Vert Gallant at terrifying speed, before sharply turning onto the road that led through the town of Bertangles. The small, modest houses were dwarfed by the grandiose Chateau that gleamed in white in sunlight - the Headquarters for our group. I watched it sail past the window as we sped on towards the airfield. Turning onto our field, I shakily stepped out of the car.

Staring out over the field, I felt a sudden sense of a great pressure being relieved, and my knees went. I caught myself on the hood of the car, as Powell rushed to my side. “Steady on, sir! You’re okay!” he nervously said, helping me find my footing again. “Sorry. Thank you” I muttered, and after he was sure I was on my feet proper, he took a long look at me. “You’ve really had a rough one…” he said, and placed a cigarette in my mouth, lighting it for me, before patting me on the back and jumping back into the car, driving it off to be parked.

As I wandered into the mess, I found Wilkie reading the latest edition of Comic Cuts, and Andrews smoking his pipe. At my entry, their faces lit up. “Campbell! My word! We thought you were for it!” cried Wilkie, jumping up and shaking my hand. Andrews, from his chair, called out “Yes! I saw that Hun driving you down! Awfully sorry I couldn’t help, but I had one of my own. But, you must tell us how you managed to get back!”.

I slumped backwards into one of the armchairs. “Perhaps later, Andrews, I’m awfully tired. Have ‘B’ already gone up today?”. Andrews nodded. “We only had the one show today. Back in time for a morning cuppa!”. I smiled, letting myself sink backwards into the comfy chair. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me, and I turned back to Andrews with a start. “Freddy...where’s Freddy?”.

I felt my heart sink as Andrews gave me a sympathetic look, and Wilkie bowed his head. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry, Campbell...Foster’s gone West”.

I stared past him, as the room fell away. “Freddy’s...dead?” I whispered, and Wilkie put a hand on my shoulder. “We think he must have crashed in the dark, after he dropped out”. I felt tears welling in my eyes, but swallowing hard I forced them down. Freddy’s dead. I had thought that nothing would be able to kill the man - but to think that he had died in a simple flying accident…

“I can’t stand this bloody war” I whispered in a shaky voice, as Wilkie and Andrews looked at each other in concern.

Last edited by Wulfe; 04/07/19 01:43 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4469347 - 04/07/19 12:52 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,329
RAF_Louvert Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
RAF_Louvert  Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Senior Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,329
L'Etoile du Nord
.


Carrick, the Bebe is indeed a wonder to fly, in particular when you compare it to what else is flying at this time in the war. Emile will get the hang of aiming with it soon enough, and when he does the Huns are in for some serious trouble.


Fullofit, another good man lost among so many. Let's hope Gaston's new CO proves to be a good man as well. After watching your latest video I must ask: Does Gaston slice his bread that thin as well? I fear he may be getting a bit too bold with his attacks on those two-seaters.


Wulfe, that was one fine episode - incredibly moving - very well done. We're all glad to have Graham back in camp, but poor old Freddy.

Now then, apologies in advance, but I can't help myself, and if I don't do it Superfly Fullofit will: "Freddy's dead, that's what I said. Let the man rap a plan, said he'd see him home, but his hope was a rope and he should've known. ... Don't want to be like Freddy now 'cause Freddy's dead."

.




.

#4469352 - 04/07/19 01:11 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Ohhh, Lou that was gauche! Very poor taste, especially when you beat me to it biggrin
As to cutting it close, when I rewatch the video I can’t help but wince myself. It doesn’t look that close while you’re “there”, but Gaston had proven me wrong. Have to wait for the next report to find out why.

Wulfe, an excellent story to go with the rest excellent stories. I don’t know how you’re going to beat that. Really enjoyed the imagery. And every character Graham meets has a soul, even the s.o.b. soldier Graham passed in the trenches. Just wonderful storytelling. salute


"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."
#4469367 - 04/07/19 03:42 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
77_Scout Offline
Member
77_Scout  Offline
Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
Vancouver Island, Canada
Aleck A. MacKinlay
April 4, 1916

My first ever escort mission. And the bombers we were to escort? .... good old RFC-6. I would be flying again with the boys from Abeele only a few days after leaving. I wondered who would be flying and if they might know it was me (they wouldn't of course).

We were not able to find the BE2s at the rendezvous point despite clear skies and great visibility. I decided to proceed on to the target (Phalempin airfield) and puffs of Archie ahead told us that the RFC-6 boys were there. They dropped bombs just as we arrived and we accompanied them as they turned for home.

Then horror. The trailing BE2's engine suddenly erupted in spurts of flame and a long oily trail of black smoke appeared. Down they went in a slow burning decline. The gunner fled the flames ... jumping in a weird slow motion cartwheel. The pilot continued to struggle with the doomed craft until I lost sight of him behind and far below me. I didn't want to know who the two doomed men where ... they would be friends of mine that I had seen only days ago. I made the call to RFC-6 anyway; I had to. Fredricks and Taylor. I won't sleep tonight, and maybe not for some time.

Attached Files Combat Flight Simulator 3 Screenshot 2019.04.06 - 18.15.50.99.jpg
#4469372 - 04/07/19 04:04 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Scout, that's a terrible way to go.

5 April, 1916 05:15 morning mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
10 confirmed kills

The Fokker from the day before was confirmed, but yesterday's Aviatik was not. Gaston didn't object and agreed that the two-seater could not possibly be confirmed by anyone. He was too happy with his double acedom to complain.

Voscadeaux banked to port and followed the Fokker in a dive. He fired and missed. Another bank, starboard this time. He fired again and missed again. The Eindecker had nowhere to run. He gave up and started to fly straight. Gaston flew directly behind and squeezed the trigger. Nothing. He was out of bullets again. He pulled alongside the Boche and looked in his face. He looked familiar. It was Capitaine Quillen! Gaston woke up all drenched in sweat. He sat up on his bed and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and the middle finger. The night refused to be wiped off his face. Gaston was drowsy, but couldn’t fall back to sleep. He got up and dressed by the light of the lamp. There was no one in the mess hall. He made himself scrambled eggs with bacon. Voscadeaux wiped the plate clean with a piece of bread and saw through the window the eastern sky becoming lighter shade of indigo. It will be dawn soon. He greeted it with a big yawn.
The first mission of the day was to patrol over enemy airfield at Bechamps. Gaston was glad Ltn. Dagonet was leading this flight. He needed an uneventful mission. Despite the frigid breeze he still felt as if he were half asleep and the gusts of wind made it difficult to keep in formation. The rising sun did them no favours either by blinding them for the final leg of the flight.

[Linked Image]

Apart from the full of vim and vigour Flak above Bechamps there were no Boche machines to greet them. The ‘B’ flight made its obligatory circuits overhead the aerodrome and headed for home. Gaston was glad the mission was over and was dreaming of his bed. He’ll definitely take advantage of the time between the missions to catch a few winks. It was at that moment that he noticed two specks north of their position. He hoped that was just another French patrol, but the telltale Flak was missing. Boche scouts! They were overflying the Spincourt Forest. Voscadeaux’s Nieuport was on top of them shortly and Gaston swooped down on the higher flying Hun. The wind buffeted his machine as he was nearing his victim and aiming had become near impossible. The French pilot squeezed the trigger and watched as several rounds hit the fuselage. He was too close and banked to starboard, but a sudden gust of wind pushed him back into the Fokker. His entire plane shook violently and the next moment he was falling. He fought with the controls to steady his mount and at the same time watched the Eindeckers for any signs of reprisal. It looked like they were only too happy to get away. They must have thought him crazy and if Gaston thought about it, they were right. He examined his port wing. The lower plane was in shreds and it took Gaston’s entire strength and will to keep his bird level, or as level as the bird would allow him.

[Linked Image]

“- C’mon Violette, let’s not fight. I know you want to fly left and I’m telling you to fly right. Let’s meet in the middle and fly straight. Deal?” Gaston cajoled his battered sesquiplane to take him home and as soon as they’ve crossed the lines back into friendly territory he begun to scout for a place to put down. A road would be sufficient, preferably with no trees on each side and relatively straight. Such a road was just coming into view. Gaston smiled and petted the coaming surrounding the cockpit. “- Good job! Now, let’s see what we can do about bringing you down safely.” Gaston didn’t dare to turn the engine off. The lack of torque would definitely put him in the opposite spin. Instead he gradually leaned the mixture and monitored his plane’s behaviour. So far so good. He had to kick a bit more rudder but the machine did not list and was losing altitude at a reasonable rate. Everything looked good, except ... a long line of lorries coming into view just now. It was not one of those supply columns with a few vehicles. This was the mother of all convoy columns. Longer than some trains and they were trundling right smack in the middle of the road where Gaston estimated his touchdown.

[Linked Image]

He had no choice but to enrich the mixture and look for another place to land. The road turned and Gaston repeated the procedure, this time letting the rudder do the work to align the plane with the new direction of the road. He was only a few meters above the ground. He made contact with the surface. The plane bounced once and he immediately blipped the engine until it stopped. Violette kept rolling, dragging behind the bits of the broken lower plane. The Nieuport finally came to a stop and Gaston let out a big sigh of relief. He looked again at the broken wing. He was lucky.

[Linked Image]


Attached Files 1916-04-05a.jpg1916-04-05b.jpg1916-04-05c.jpg1916-04-05d.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."
#4469373 - 04/07/19 04:30 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,329
RAF_Louvert Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
RAF_Louvert  Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Senior Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,329
L'Etoile du Nord
.

7 April, 1916
Bertangles West, France
3 Squadron, R.F.C.
2nd Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC & Bar
10 confirmed victories, 3 pending claims

The drought of Eindeckers ended with a vengeance today for 2nd Lt. Swanson and Captain Rankin. It was during a late afternoon sortie which had taken B Flight across to Miraumont for a recce of the enemy lines there. Swany became separated from his two other flight members due to the low clouds that hung just under 4,000'. He had climbed up through the large, gray masses that were drifting about, and when he popped out above into the darkening skies of early evening he found himself on his own. He and Captain Rankin continued on and completed the mission without finding the remainder of B Flight, and after they'd had a good look at the trenches below and made their notes the duo headed back towards Bertangles. Just as they were crossing over into friendly territory a brace of Eindeckers closed in on them from behind. The Captain was ready and had a firm grip on the Lewis when Swany began carving the Morane about to avoid the Hun guns. Rankin took advantage immediately of the clear line of fire he had on the nearest Fokker and sent it down out of control in a matter of seconds. Despite the loss of his partner the second Hun continued the attack. It took Swanson another two minutes of twisting and turning and maneuvering before the Captain was able to get a hit on the remaining Hun. When the shots finally did land the enemy plane turned immediately away to the east and disappeared over No Man's land. The two British airmen breathed a collective sigh of relief. They were now well below the clouds and the last of the day's light was fading fast. Their bus had some venting in the wing but apart from that seemed unscathed. Swany did not bother to climb back up as he did not want to lose sight of the ground, he'd need the landmarks to find their way home. It would likely be quite dark by the time they returned.

Suddenly, and seemingly from out of nowhere, three more Eindeckers came tearing down on the tail of the lone Morane. Fortunately, Swanson and the Captain were just passing Beaumont-Hamel and the British balloon position there, which meant there would be lots of friendly guns nearby to help them out. Swany banked down towards the balloon, dragging the trio of Fokkers behind him as they closed the gap on their prey. Just as the lead Hun was about to fire Swany flipped the Morane around towards the threat and as they zipped past the Eindeckers Rankin began firing away. He clearly hit something vital on the middle Fokker and the plane rolled over on its back and fell to the earth below. Upon seeing this the trailing Hun lost his nerve and ran away towards the lines as the gunners at the nearby balloon position began blasting at him with both AA and machine gun fire. However, the leader of the enemy flight had now latched on to the Morane and was not letting go. Swany did everything he could to shake the fellow off but the Hun managed to stick close, sending numerous volleys into the wing, fuselage, and tail of the Morane, as well as shattering the forward windscreen. Rankin returned fire every chance he got and at last scored hits in the engine of the Eindecker, its prop grinding to a halt. Swany turned and watched as their attacker glided down and made a perfect dead-stick landing in a field just south of the town. Things were not quite over though for the British team as the Le Rhône in their bus began making a sickening scraping noise and brief moments later came to a sudden and complete stop. The Lieutenant now had to perform the precise same maneuver as their foe had just completed. Swany quickly lined up on the very same field the Eindecker was parked in and glided the Morane down, making a landing every bit as nice as that of the Hun's. When the King's aeroplane came to a stop it was mere feet away from the Eindecker. While the Morane had been shot up a fair bit the Fokker did not appear to have a mark on it apart from the bullet holes in its engine. The Captain had managed a very lucky hit.

By the time Swanson and Rankin had climbed out of their bus, the Hun pilot was standing next to his with several troops from the British balloon position training their rifles on him. The Captain pushed past them, telling the men to stand down as he did so. He walked right up to the enemy flyer and in nearly flawless German asked the young fellow his name. "I am Leutnant Jacob Kestmann", came the reply. The Captain went on to ask about the fellow's jasta and assigned field, but all he got back was, "I am Leutnant Jacob Kestmann". After going through the man's pockets and giving the cockpit of the Eindecker a quick inspection, the Captain took the belongings and maps he had garnered and ordered that Kestmann be taken to the balloon position and held there until he said differently. He also ordered a guard to be placed around the Eindecker and added that if anything was missing from it when the crew came to recover it he would see to it personally that the men responsible for the looting would be shot. He then turned to Swany.

"2nd Lieutenant Swanson, please do a full inspection of this monoplane and make any notes about it you feel are important. And write a full description of its current condition and inventory as well."

The Captain's voice was stern, yet Swany could sense a suppressed excitement in it as well. And something else - fear. It was then he noticed that the Captain's hands were shaking. What he had just made it through in the sky was hitting him now that he was standing firmly back on the ground, and he was having a time not showing it to the others around him. Swany was feeling it too, but he had experienced this a fair number of times already by this point and was better adept at keeping it to himself.

Rankin turned and headed off with the soldiers as they escorted their prisoner away. "I am going to phone Bertangles and let them know where we are", he called back over his shoulder. "You stay here with our prize and make sure no one mucks about with it."

"Vill do Captain", Swany replied in a tone that did little to belie his own feelings about what he and Rankin had just lived through. "I'll make myself comfortable."


The engagement above the clouds.
[Linked Image]

The engagement below the clouds.
[Linked Image]

The downed Eindecker mere feet away.
[Linked Image]

Quite a prize for the R.F.C.
[Linked Image]



.

#4469385 - 04/07/19 05:24 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
Carrick, glad your enjoying your new machine.
Wulfe, wonderful story as always. I hope you are saving all of this for the upcoming novel.
Fullofit, carful Hoss! You’ve come too far already to be a dirt dart. France can’t afford to loose their favorite son
Lou, that was a nail biter for sure. Congratulations on another victory.

I have one more mission to fly before I catch up on Jericho. Right now I have to help my daughter make a tree for a high school play!


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!
#4469395 - 04/07/19 06:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
carrick58 Offline
Senior Member
carrick58  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
Emile Benoit La Mont
Sgt, N 26
St. Pol-sur-mer, AF
Flanders, France

April 7, 1916.


Morning Patrol behind the lines. No contact

Late day Balloon attack: The Esc sent 7 of us out for a Ob Balloon in back of the trench line. Top cover 's 2 a/c were 1st to get there and took out Zee gas bag. I didnt want to haul all the rockets back so found an enemy AF to dump on. Additionally , l put a drum of ammo at the parked Flying machines.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-07 11-02-58-13.jpgCFS3 2019-04-07 11-07-15-48.jpgCFS3 2019-04-07 11-07-25-17.jpgCFS3 2019-04-07 11-09-27-69.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 04/07/19 06:33 PM.
#4469448 - 04/08/19 12:22 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
Lt. Mark Jericho
Bertangles West
April 7, 1916

The last few days had been exhausting. The flights had been up for 2 shows a day and it seemed they were in the thick of it. "C" Flight had been to Athies Junction 3 times and Bertincourt in the last 3 days. They had been in combat on every mission. Lucky for them the Bristol escorts were wonderful at their job and made it easy on the Morane pilots. On the flight to Athies yesterday morning they had fought their way in, dropped their eggs and then they were attacked while crossing back over the lines. On this occasion Christian had got in a telling burst on their pursuer and both saw him go down in the middle of NML. They were both in high spirits as they made their claim. "Third times the charm" Jericho had said to Christian.

This morning as Jericho and Christian were getting ready for another go at Athies Junction they met Jim and his Observer Gunner. Jim's observer did not know what to think of Jericho as he had been listening to too many tall tales being told about him. As they talked Jericho casually took out his 45 and loaded it with 5 cartridge's letting the hammer down on the empty cylinder. Jim's observer asked, "May I ask what the pistol is for Lieutenant?" Jericho looked at Jim and said "Haven't you taught this man anything Jim?! Well, I tell you. I ain't going to be no Hun's flaming burrito. No Sir. If that crate catches on fire, It's one to the temple for this child!" The observer looked astonished at Jericho as he pulled out the 45 again and looked down the barrel. Jericho went on, "Now you might ask why I need 5 shots to send my soul west and that's a good question. The answer is simple. Christian here might not want to be a flaming burrito either so I need to send him west first and he might dodge a bit so it might take the first four to do him in proper like." Jim had to walk away trying not to laugh. Christian, who was getting use to Jericho's humor nodded in agreement as the Observer stood dumbfounded looking at the two. Jericho and Christian could not hold it any longer and both turned away and burst out laughing. As they neared the Morane Christian turned to Jericho and said "Don't worry Mark, I won't duck." Jericho nodded back. They both knew the score.

At 1400 hours they were up again to recon east of Fricourt. They were on their first round when Christian spotted 3 Fokkers coming up behind them. Obviously the Bristol's could not see the Fokkers under them. Soon Christian opened up and Jericho turned to survey the situation. There were 2 on his tail. He heard bullets impact canvas and turned harder as the two Fokkers flashed past. Christian swung the Lewis gun around and fired 2 more bursts but now the Bristol's were aware of the threat and dove into them. Jericho circled but had lost sight of his flight. Two more circles and he decided to head back, Just as they came over the mud on their side Christian opened up again and Jericho instinctively turned hard. He could not believe what he saw. The Fokker was going down in a slow spiral with a faint trail of smoke coming from his engine. Jericho tried his best to go down and get beside him for Christian to finish the job but the Hun was too fast and all he could do was stay up with him. Down they came from 1500 meters until the Hun made a fair landing on their side of the trenches. Jericho pulled up and leveled off as soldiers poured from the trenches to surround the fallen enemy. Jericho and Christian waved as the soldiers all waved up at the victor. Jericho made two circles around the Fokker then headed back to Bertangles. They landed and rushed to make their claim. "Two in Two days Pard! Ain't we the biggest toad in the pond."

It was a rowdy crowd at the mess that evening as Jericho's tent mate, Swany, had brought one down intact the day before. The Major walked to the head of the table and raised his hand which silenced everyone. "I just got word on Lieutenant's Jericho and Christians claim yesterday. While I do not doubt one minute that you brought one down, the claim has been denied." A loud groan came up from the table. Jericho threw his arms up and said "With all due respect Major! We can't deliver them with a bow tied to the wing like Swany can!" There were a few laughs as the Major raised his hand again. "A toast gentleman." he said.
Jericho rolled his eyes, "What the h#@l are we going to toast." The Major raised his glass as did the others and he looked at Jericho and Christian "I just received word from the balloonatics near Fricourt and they saw your fight today. Here is to your first confirmed victory!"

[Linked Image]

[Linked Image]

[Linked Image]


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!
#4469449 - 04/08/19 12:27 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
77_Scout Offline
Member
77_Scout  Offline
Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 915
Vancouver Island, Canada
Aleck A. MacKinlay
April 5, 1916

Sent to patrol over our nearby airfield at Droglandt. The enemy never ventures this far over the lines so we expected to see no action, and that was the case. Although James is always my wingman, the Major has been mixing the flight personnel otherwise so I am getting to know some of the other pilots style. I suppose the Major is trying to develop an idea of who teams well together before we ship closer to the action?


Attached Files Combat Flight Simulator 3 Screenshot 2019.04.07 - 17.11.56.09.jpg
Last edited by 77_Scout; 04/08/19 12:28 AM.
#4469456 - 04/08/19 01:12 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Lou, you are the Fokker Terminator. I have a theory why they all like you so much. You fly all by your lonesome. No escort and that makes your plane such an attractive proposition. Little do they know who is sitting behind the controls, nor do they know that the gunner is more afraid of Swany than them.
Carrick, you better be careful with those rockets. They’re flammable, don’t you know? biggrin
MFair, that’s one way to pull a leg of a flight member. I am pretty sure Jim’s observer will have nightmares tonight. Congrats on the first confirmed kill. Finally! It will be a party to remember, I’m sure.


5 April, 1916 13:15 afternoon mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
10 confirmed kills

They have told him it would take two days to repair Violette’s wing. While she’s under repairs Gaston would have to use a loaner.
They’ve been sent deep into the Hun territory to patrol over enemy camp near Virton. Gaston was in lead, with his wingman Adjutant Adelus on his starboard, Adjutant Boillot on port side and Caporal Garrigou bringing up the rear. The weather was still favourable. As they were crossing the lines Gaston noticed a pair of Fokkers doing the same in the opposite direction. He turned the ‘B’ flight around to give chase. The monoplanes noticed this and turned to face them as well. Four against two wasn’t much of a duel, but the result would be the same if the odds were reversed. Voscadeaux latched onto the tail of the leader and let his wingmen entertain the trailing Boche. Gaston’s target was attempting to evade the flurry of bullets when the linkages were snapped and the monoplane went into a spin and veered right above Gaston’s head missing him by mere inches. Gaston’s heart stopped as he watched in slow motion Eindecker’s wing grazing his tail. He was this close to wrecking another Nieuport in the span of hours. It all happened so fast that Voscadeaux had no time to even twitch. He had no time to congratulate himself on a narrow escape either as the other Fokker was now in his sights. He fired at it but stayed back as the rest of his troupe was hounding him. It was Adelus who finished him off. They reformed and continued with the mission. The cloud cover increased as they’ve reached Virton. The only indicator that they were over the camp came when the Flak started going off. No enemy planes were in sight so Gaston turned back and headed for home. As they were approaching Jametz, first Boillot and then the rest of his flight detached from formation and Gaston followed to see what the commotion was all about. He couldn’t see anything out of place but trusted Boillot’s eagle eyes. He finally spied a trio of Fokkers high above getting ready for the attack. One of them dove on the passing Nieuports, but he was outnumbered and soon Adjutant Boillot had him out of control and crashing to the ground. Gaston started to look for the other two Huns and found them going straight for the Jametz aerodrome. He chased them with the rest of his flight behind. When he caught up to them, he gave his wingmen the opportunity to draw first blood, knowing well they will trip on each other if they all attack at once, but they were comfortable just following him. Gaston went after the trailing Fokker and set its Oberursel on fire. Finally the rest of his flight decided to join the fun and were on the burning Fokker like the proverbial flies on Scheisse trying to be the last one to hit him and claim the poor #%&*$#. Voscadeaux was looking for his leader, but instead noticed another trio flying high above. He was low on ammo and decided that discretion was the better part of valour and turn south to get back home. Only Boillot was still with him. The other Adjutant and the Caporal remained behind. Cpl. Garrigou claimed the final hit on Gaston’s flamer. On arrival back at base each member of the ‘B’ flight claimed one Boche each. They were all on pins and needles until the confirmations started to come in.



"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."
#4469462 - 04/08/19 02:12 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,531
Raine Offline
Member
Raine  Offline
Member

Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,531
New Brunswick, Canada
I've been tied up with work, so it has been a job to get caught up with everyone. There have been some incredible stories over the past week. Fullofit, I think Gaston must have moved to Canada after the war, because that violet is the exact shade of every cheap motel room in the province of Quebec! And congratulations on Gaston's work in getting Violette down in one piece after that collision. That was a real nail-biter. Wulfe, you have so many great vignettes embedded in your stories. I loved Hawker's claims announcements, the trip across no man's land, and the line about missing his own funeral ("Apologies for not turning up"). Carrick, congratulations on the new Bebe! Lou, I love Odin's thunder. Reminds me of the aftermath of Indian food. And congratulations again on the bar to the MC, followed by three (count 'em, three) claims! Scout, best of luck with the DH2. MFair, I loved the leg-pull about the revolver. And heartiest congrats on the first confirmed victory!

Collins in back in the fray.


An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins
Part Thirty-Two: In which I get to know Clarke – and question myself

I was chuffed about moving to Bertangles. It was the thought of Amiens, just a few miles down the road – Amiens with its hotels and restaurants and bars, Amiens awash with khaki and coquettes. I longed to get a day off.

I awoke to a gentle drizzle and low cloud. April weather. Clarke was snoring. He was not due up until ten. Meahan showed up a few minutes later with the tea, and informed me that Captain Mealing was already over by the hangars and that we were indeed going up in this muck. Today our job was to drop bombs on a railway station north of Bapaume. Sergeant Bayetto showed up around the same time as me and Wilson, taking in tow his fresh-faced observer, a boy named Badley.

The flight itself was unremarkable, save for the strain of watching Mealing’s position in the cloud and low light. I left the Hun-watching to Wilson and flew stooped over the ridiculously short stick of the Morane. We dropped out of the cloud and Mealing winged over and led us down at the rail yard. The Huns had laid on more than the usual supply of annoyance. There were hundreds of soldiers milling around the edges of the yard and several machine gun positions. Three or four rounds slapped at the fabric of my right wing. The bombs landed in the midst of the crowd of men. We pulled away into the mist and were off for tea, leaving several dozen families to grieve their sons. The industrial scale of the murder was wearing on me.

Bayetto’s machine was damaged in that attack. His undercarriage snapped on landing. Bayetto was thrown clear, rolled several times, got up and brushed himself off. Young Badley was also thrown clear and broke his neck. No one really knew him, and I helped Chickering, his tent-mate, sort his effects. Badley’s greatcoat fit better than mine.

The days blurred together. Up before first light, and sometimes off the ground before sunrise. Rain every morning. Back for tea and eggs, lunch, and then off again. Only my log lets me piece the week together: bomb Bertincourt – chased off by Fokkers; bomb Hun lines near Fricourt – mix with more Fokkers without result; spot for the guns over Posières; hit station north of Bapaume – run from Fokkers; bomb positions east of Beaumont-Hamel – see nothing; spot for guns near Thiepval – no air Huns today.

[Linked Image]
" Up before first light..."

The afternoon of Wednesday, 5 April stands out. We’d returned at seven o’clock from Thiepval and I went straight to my tent after report. I’d barely been able to keep awake on the return flight. Clarke was off duty and asleep. I fell onto my cot and was asleep in seconds. Then it was half-past ten and warm under the sun-dappled canvas. I watched the flickering shadows of leaves on the canvas walls, brushed two earwigs from my valise.

“Hoskins is dead,” Clarke said from across the way. “Theobald too.”

They were both observers, and I didn’t know them well although they had been with us since Auchel. “What happened?” I asked.

“Hoskins’ machine caught a shell in front of Courcellette. Just disappeared. His pilot was that tall fellow.”

“Eggerton?”

“I think that was him. Very tony accent.”

“Eggerton,” I said, and lit a cigarette.

Clarke sat up on the edge of the cot. “Just over a year ago I was in school – Charterhouse. My principal concern was making the first XI. Nobody died at cricket.” He laughed weakly. “Quite the thing, isn’t it?”

For some reason we both opened up. For the first time ever, I spoke about my parents’ weaknesses. My father was respected outside the home, but drank too much in it. My mother chided him mercilessly, and then drank too. My sister pretended nothing was wrong. And I played with my motorcycle. I missed my father. When he was fine he was a wonderful man. I was never close to my mother. “I worry a bit,” I said to Clarke, “that I am unable to feel all of this as I should.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“A couple of days ago I inherited a dead man’s coat. A man I drank with two nights before. A few days ago I dropped bombs into a crowd of men. And I don’t feel guilty. At least, I don’t feel guilty like I should. I’m not sure what I should feel, but I’m sure it’s not like this. I sleep. I get up. I have tea and a sandwich. And then I fly over Hunland to kill some fellows I’ve never met. And when I get back I want to go to town for drinks and dinner. It’s just strange, that’s all. Maybe I’ve switched off too many things in my life. Maybe I should be different.”

Clarke nodded. “I’m sure there will be time enough after the war to think about all that.”

“It would be nice to think so,” I replied.

We took off shortly after noon – Mealing’s machine, mine, and Bayetto’s. Two Bristols from 11 Squadron flew a thousand feet up to our rear, and Sergeant Bayetto and I shepherded Captain Mealing’s machine as he took photographs of the enemy defences around La Boisselle. I glanced over at Mealing and noticed something in the distance beyond his machine – three aircraft, closing fast. In seconds I could make out the razor-like line of an oncoming Fokker, followed by two mates. I fired a flare and we turned to meet the Huns.

The Bristols were more nimble and an exciting scrap began which lasted more than ten minutes and brought us from 6000 feet down to about 1000 feet. Wilson fired off a drum at a Hun that was trying to get behind a Bristol. And then it was over. I began to climb back to altitude, but just then a stray Fokker passed beneath us, trailing a thin wisp of smoke. I banked over and gave chase. The Hun’s engine was faltering and we gained on it quickly. Wilson swung his Lewis over the side and emptied a fresh drum at the Fokker. The enemy machine was passing over some ruins at the edge of Bapaume. I turned back at it while Wilson changed drums. We got another long burst at it and then the Hun disappeared among the rooftops. We climbed away, chased by small arms fire, and climbed eastward. Bayetto was gone but after several minutes of searching, I was relieved to see Mealing emerge overhead. We took station and headed home.

[Linked Image]
[i]"The Hun’s engine was faltering and we gained on it quickly."


Bayetto called in from Bellvue. He’d had a cylinder shot away and would return by nightfall. Captain Mealing had seen our Hun go down, so now Sergeant Wilson and I had accounted for three enemy machines. This was the first we had failed to bring down in our own lines.

Swanson came over to congratulate me graciously in the mess and we had a very mild binge, as there was a full day planned for the morrow.



Attached Files Dawn patrol.pngKill No 3.png
#4469467 - 04/08/19 04:23 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2018
Posts: 245
Wulfe Offline
Member
Wulfe  Offline
Member

Joined: Aug 2018
Posts: 245
Lots of brilliant tales, again. Reading these yarns with a morning cuppa is one of the highlights of the day!

Lou - Great tune...but not so good for Freddy - either of them. Looks like Swany's back to his old tricks, bashing every Eindecker silly enough to think that a Morane might make for an easy victory. What could they be thinking?! Great shot of 'Odin' and the E.III in the field next to each other - but every time I see that Swany's mixing it up with Fokkers again I get panicky. Fortunately, seems like Rankin's 'getting the eye in'. By any means, I really enjoy reading about the pair's dynamic, both in the air and on the ground. I eagerly await to see what hijinks they get up to next.

Scout - Harrowing stuff - and the worst way to go for an airman. It's even worse knowing that it's your old squadron, but not knowing who was in the machine at the time. MacKinlay's been having a rough war - I hope he happens upon more fortunate times soon.

Fullofit - Dammit, man, are you trying to give me anxiety?! Gaston had just better be careful! I saw the screenshots before I'd started to read, and feared the worst!! That being said, congratulations on your victories...from the sounds of this Boillot chappie, Gaston's winning streak may be starting to rub off on some of his fellow pilots...

Raine - your accounts of the sorties are great, but your accounts of squadron life are stellar. The conversation about the dead airmen was chilling in how matter-of-fact it was. The supporting characters in Collins' Odyssey (such as Clarke) are also excellently written. Terrific stuff, and I eagerly await more. By the way, congratulations on your 3rd victory. Eindeckers aint no match for a No. 3 Parasol...

MFair - Speaking of No. 3 Parasols, a big congratulations on Jericho's first confirmed victory!! And what a delightfully evil joke to play! Jericho continues to be one of my favourite characters - he is superbly unique. I look forwards to reading about his next victory.



2nd. Lieut. Graham A. Campbell, MC,
No. 24 Squadron R.F.C,
Bertangles West, France.

April 8th, 1916.


As I sat quietly over a cup of tea in the Mess, I stared into the wall, deep in thought. It didn’t seem real to me - in my head, I listed off all the members of the ‘Hounslow Gang’, our training group. Freddy Foster, Jacky-Boy Fisher, Hugo Lane, Albie Chapman, Dale Weston, all dead. Only Switch-Off and I remained. And Teddie Lawson, of course, although his injuries had cut his war short.

I had received a response to my letter from Switch-Off and Jimmy Reynard. They were trying to keep in high spirits, but No. 20 had fallen upon harsh times as of late. I sighed in misery as I read Switch-Off’s words - It’s a terrible shame, but poor old Ethan Tepes has been killed on April 2nd. Tepes had seen me off the day I took my leave to London, and had I known it were to be the last time I would see him, perhaps I would have tried to prolong the moment. It was then that I realised another item was enclosed in the envelope. Tipping it upside down on the table, I was shocked to see the small bag of tea, my lucky charm, flop down onto the wood. No bloody wonder I was shot down I thought to myself, pocketing the charm.

Taking a sip of my tea, I slumped down in my chair and tried to find a reason to distract myself from my misery. However, with my concussion I had been struck off of the squadron roster for today, and with the majority of the chaps out on patrol there was no conversation to divert my attention. It was then that the Old Man appeared at the entryway. “Campbell - a word,” he said, sitting opposite me. I looked up at him with a dull stare, and he frowned slightly. “Look. It’s no good to be in this funk of yours” he said, an unusual tone of sympathy in his voice. He paused to load his pipe, before striking a match and inhaling deeply, blowing out a thick cloud of grey-white smoke towards the ceiling. “You’ll need a new bus, as well as something to clear your head. So, I’ve arranged for you to pick up a new DeHav from Candas today. One of the chaps working on the machines in there is a pal of mines - he’ll see to it that you get a good bus”.

My mood lifted slightly at the thought of being able to fly, and I managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Old Man,” I said, slowly rising to my feet. “I’ll go just now, if that’s okay”. The Old Man gestured to the door, and I thanked him once more before leaving. Candas was only a short while to the North, and so I decided to walk through France’s country fields and clear my head, carrying my flying coat over my forearm. Up and down the sloped fields I went, taking in deep breaths of air, free of exhaust and castor oil fumes, and for a moment I felt quite peaceful. But, it wasn’t long before I berated myself for this feeling, as my thoughts flashed back to my friends that had been killed. I quickened my pace.

Although smaller than the depot at St. Omer, No. 2 A.D. at Candas was a sight to behold - endless rows of hangars housed all kinds of machines - Moranes, Nieuports, Avros, Vickers, all divided and sorted into their own hangars. After checking in with the Adjutant, I found myself being led to two hangars at the farmost end of the aerodrome, in which several D.H.2s sat, lying in wait of a pilot to take them home. “Well then, here we are!” Said Corporal Davids, the Ack-Emma who had walked me over. “The Old Man said you’re a friend, and to give you a good one. I have one in mind, but see if any take your fancy first”. Fancying myself more expert than I was, I regarded the machines with a critical eye. Finally, I said “This one - she’s brand new, right?”, pointing to a machine with the tail number 6200. It was the highest number I had seen, informing my opinion. To my dismay, Davids chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no, no, you don’t want that one…”.

“Well, why not?” I retorted, trying not to sound offended. “She’s got an old engine! A dud, as well, I might add. Cylinders have been re-bored twice already. This one’s surely going to end up giving some poor bugger a case of Cylindritis, but the Adjutant won’t write her off. ‘Nothing wrong with the engine’, he says. Ha!”. “What is Cylindritis, anyway?” I asked, and he flashed me a grin. “Oh, just you be thankful you get to ask, rather than find out for yourself! Once the Cylinders have been re-bored they have a nasty tendency to go flying out of the engine mid-flight. If you catch one in the tail…” he ran a finger across his throat. Flustered at the apparently terrible choice I had made, I pointed at random to another machine. “Okay, what about that one then?”. Davies shrugged. “About what you’d expect”. Before I could embarrass myself further, he put a hand on my shoulder, saying “Why don’t we have a look at this one?”.

He brought me to a DeHav that was tucked in at the back of the hangar, and held his arm out as if he were introducing a famous actress, or a dame. “Now this bus, this is about as good as you can get with a DeHav. No re-bored cylinders, magnetos work fine, even the piston rings are sturdier than the usual flimsy stuff Gnome sends us. Oh, and the airframe’s a peach, too!”. I looked over the DeHav - it was an unassuming machine, and almost looked civilian without its PC10 colouring. Doubtfully I read the tail number, 5986. “Tell you what,” Davies said behind me, “Take this one, and if you don’t like it come right back and I’ll give you another one”. I agreed, and he broke into a broad grin, before summoning a pair of Ack-Emmas to help him wheel the machine out, clearing the other DeHavs out of the way. On the airfield, I donned my flying gear and climbed into the cockpit, slowly feeling out the controls. They were smooth and light, but felt no different to my old bus. Promptly Davies swung my prop, and the engine roared awake, its voice dropping in staccato silences as I blipped it. The Chocks were removed and I let her roll forwards, lifting off slightly quicker than I had expected.

In the air, I had to admit that Davies had been absolutely sound in his judgement. 5986 responded eagerly to each and every slight movement of the controls, and she sang confidently to herself as I put her into an easy left turn, then a right. Becoming increasingly smitten with the new machine, I gained a few thousand feet before breaking into a grin, diving, and looping the machine twice. I laughed to myself as I swooped low over the Depot, seeing both Davies waving and grinning, and seeing the Adjutant rush out of his office, aghast, shaking his fist upwards at me in anger. I bid them both farewell with a cheery rock of my wings, and made for Bertangles.

[Linked Image]
Stunting!

On the ground again, I was in awe of how quickly I had gone from being dubious of 5986 to being enamoured with her. Miller came out to greet me, whistling as he looked over my new bus. “She sounds like a good one!” he remarked, as I de-planed and the Ack-Emmas wheeled her into the Bessoneau. It was then that I noticed that some of our boys had returned, and that Maj. Hawker was watching me from the side of the aerodrome. He came over to inspect my machine in the hangar, nodding his head in approval, before patting me on the back. “Very nice, but there’s one thing missing”. I shot him a nervous look, and he responded with his warm, booming laugh, pushing a paintbrush into my hand. “Get those struts painted!”. As he turned to leave, he stopped for a moment and looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way, you’ll be in ‘C’ from now on. Blue, not black”. With that, he took off strolling towards the mess.

With his trademark yellowy grin, Miller placed two buckets of paint, blue and white, next to my machine. Thumbing my lip, I dipped the paintbrush into a bucket and got to work.

[Linked Image]
Introducing Graham's new Bus!

New Profiles added to the gallery - Willi Rosenstein's Roland C.II & Emile Benoit La Mont's Nieuport 11.

Last edited by Wulfe; 04/08/19 11:40 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4469538 - 04/08/19 09:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
carrick58 Offline
Senior Member
carrick58  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
Nice paint job

#4469539 - 04/08/19 09:55 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
carrick58 Offline
Senior Member
carrick58  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 4,935
Emile Benoit La Mont
Sgt, N 26
St. Pol-sur-mer, AF
Flanders, France


April 8, 1916.

Raided a Bosche Flying field this morning. I only spotted 3 e/a parked so the Rest must been up and away. All of 2 section was used 3 N-11's and 3 N-16's , but only 5 machines came back
A pity.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-08 14-36-05-92.jpgCFS3 2019-04-08 14-36-18-20.jpg
#4469551 - 04/08/19 10:55 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
Raine, why would Gaston ever move to such a desolate and cold place like Canada? There would have to be another Great War to make him change his mind.
Seems like Collins is in the doldrums at the moment, except for an occasional Fokker falling out of the sky for him to chase. His discussions with the other pilots in the tent remind me of the Winged Victory discourses. As they say, ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die. Congrats on getting that Hun!
Wulfe, isn’t she a beaut? Your new princess to whisk you away on adventures. Congrats on the new (brand spanking new!) bus. Hope it can take better care of Campbell than the last one. Also, I sure hope the Adjutant at Candas didn’t spill his coffee all over his uniform when you buzzed the tower.
As to Adj. Boillot, Gaston hopes to whip the unit into shape and maybe some of his Élan will even rub off on them.
Carrick, your pilot is quite the Rocket-man! Must be practicing for the upcoming patch.


6 April, 1916 06:55 morning mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
11 confirmed kills

It appears only the two Fokkers over the frontlines were credited with confirmed kills. So, it was one for Gaston and one for his wingman Adj. Adelus. The other two had to deal with the disappointment.

Today’s mission was assigned to ‘B’ flight to patrol over factories at Martincourt. The four pilots took off but only three completed the mission. Gaston had an engine failure right after take off. He landed promptly trailing a plume of grey smoke. The mechanics had to cool the engine down before they could take a look at it. In the meantime Gaston visited the mess hall to have his second breakfast.

[Linked Image]

6 April, 1916 14:05 afternoon mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
11 confirmed kills

With the engine repaired and examined by Gaston himself, the afternoon mission could proceed. It was a simple affair - provide air support for troop movements. Target was the enemy troop camp on the west bank of Meuse River, north of Verdun. Voscadeaux enjoyed the entire flight. Beautiful weather with light clouds, great visibility and the Flak that couldn’t quite reach them.

[Linked Image]

A perfect stroll in the park. As they were returning to Senard, a single dot appeared on the horizon, just above the frontlines. Gaston decided to investigate and found it to be a pleasant surprise. It was a Caudron on its way home. Voscadeaux felt nostalgic and wondered what his old gunner, Adjutant Ernest Becquerel was up to. These were boys from C13. He could see the unit emblem on the engine nacelles. He had certain affinity for the lumbering giants and decided to escort the beast all the way to the aerodrome and then return home. It took slightly longer, but this made Gaston’s flight even more enjoyable.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-04-06 AM.jpg1916-04-06 PM1.jpg1916-04-06 PM2.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."
#4469554 - 04/08/19 11:05 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,528
Scout and Carrick, two very nice screen shots Gents!
Fullofit, you are becoming the terror of the Huns. But PLEASEbe more careful. Your close calls are scaring me to death.
Raine, a very touching story my friend. The ghosts of war. Let’s hope they are not permanent.
Wulfe, you did good taking the word of the Ack-Emma. It’s like buying a horse. Never buy color. Speaking of color, that’s one fine paint job you put on the DH2.


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!
#4469563 - 04/09/19 12:58 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Fullofit Offline
Member
Fullofit  Offline
Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,326
Ajax, ON
MFair, there is no time to be careful. This is war! spartasign


"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."
Page 43 of 79 1 2 41 42 43 44 45 78 79

Moderated by  Polovski 

Quick Search
Recent Articles
Support SimHQ

If you shop on Amazon use this Amazon link to support SimHQ
.
Social


Recent Topics
Show us your guitars!
by piper. 08/18/19 11:30 PM
Peter Fonda passed at 79
by rwatson. 08/17/19 01:41 AM
Those "Beyond Burgers"
by PanzerMeyer. 08/16/19 10:39 AM
Isn't this just a bit silly?
by Nixer. 08/15/19 11:31 PM
What3words
by RedToo. 08/15/19 05:05 PM
USS Yorktown
by JohnnyChemo. 08/14/19 08:35 PM
Final Request
by Bill_Grant. 08/14/19 01:49 PM
Hi-Res Audio
by Red2112. 08/13/19 05:31 PM
Online gaming buddies
by PanzerMeyer. 08/13/19 05:08 PM
Epic browser
by Chef. 08/13/19 04:35 PM
Powered by UBB.threads™ PHP Forum Software 7.6.0